The Making of The Pumpkin King
by Gina Trujillo
Summary: Set years and years before the events of the movie. Sequel to 'The Road from Nowhere'
1. Halloween Town

Because of many requests (and the fact that my imagination can't leave a single story alone,) this is the continuation of "The Road from Nowhere," but it's not listed as the next chapter of the story because I like for "The Road from Nowhere" to be a stand-alone tale. So I guess all this is sort of a sequel. And, yes, it would help to read the other story first. This is just basically randomness and it rambles, but there are some pretty funny bits in it, and I hope to work it up to a good story in the end, and that's why it should be read. Or something. Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne, who is my character, and the mysterious woman who shows up in this chapter. ~overly dramatic~ Dun dun dun! Yeah and stuff.  
  
  
  
~Halloween Town~  
  
The morning sun lifted its head to look down upon a town of winding, thin, brick streets and many large, crooked buildings. Each one of these had its own, unique architecture: everything from being the likeness of a person's face, or an arched cat, to being nothing but a box-like room perched high upon a spindly staircase. Many of these looked as if they should just fall over, and yet also seemed as if they had kept from doing so for years upon years. The roads were confusing, twisting and turning about the strange buildings with no apparent rhyme or reason to it all. The street signs (when they could be found) were difficult to decipher, being just as crooked and spindly as the rest of the town, and not seeming as if they were facing the right direction, somehow.  
  
Jack had risen with the sun that morning. He felt lost as to why. Something told him he was to be doing some sort of work or chores of some type, and yet he had nothing to do. For some time, he paced in the room he'd slept in, trying to sort out his mind. Zero soon awoke, as well, and joined in with the pacing, following at his master's heels. After a while, it became a bit of a game more than anything.  
  
The room they were in was one within the home of Zayne Hemlock, the Pumpkin King. Well, that is, if one could really judge that it was inside the house. It was more above it than anything, being a circular room perched upon a high and rather precarious looking tower. Zayne had told him the night before, as they were making their way up the many stairs to this room, that the tower had been used for prisoners many, many years ago, when another King had ruled over Halloween Town. Now, however, Zayne had replaced one wall with large windows, put in a fireplace, and turned the place into a library of sorts.  
  
The house of Zayne Hemlock was surprisingly small, considering he was the King, and the fact made Jack question if it was actually true, although not verbally. The inside was nicely furnished enough to make him think it was possible... but not likely, still. He would have to wait and see.  
  
After roughly half an hour of pacing inside his room and playing with Zero that morning, Jack got up the nerve to creep down the stairs and see if his host was awake.  
  
Zayne's room was very dark, with heavy drapes over the windows and the walls all black as night. The furniture was all hard wood, stained as dark as could be. A few gargoyles loomed from the shadowed edges of the chamber, all sneering at some unknown thing, or perhaps at each other.  
  
Much to Jack's disappointment, he found Zayne still laying within the blankets of his canopy bed, the eyes in his pumpkin face closed tight and no sign of fire from the candlestick within. Jack compressed a sigh as he realized he would have only Zero as company for a while longer and that no farther questions of his could be answered yet. He turned and tried to creep from the room silently.  
  
"Need something, Jack?" Zayne's voice suddenly came, sounding half asleep still.  
  
Jack froze in his tracks, then turned back around, "Uhm, no... Not really. I was just seeing if you were awake."  
  
Zayne's eyes were still closed as he replied, "I am now. The clattering and creaking you make when you walk wakes the dead, evidently."  
  
"I'm sorry." Jack replied quickly, "I didn't mean to-"  
  
Zayne just laughed, "Don't worry, you're new at this. You'll learn to walk better, in time." He opened his eyes slightly and a spark from nowhere ignited the candlestick within his pumpkin head. "Why are you awake at this hour? You'll have no energy for tonight's celebration, you know."  
  
"I still don't know what celebration you speak of." Jack replied.  
  
Zayne sighed slightly and closed his eyes again, leaving the room in almost total darkness once more. "Halloween night... you'll just have to wait and see. It is something that can't be explained very well. It must be seen."  
  
Jack nodded, although it went unseen by Zayne, "Er, right. Alright. I'll let you sleep, then..." He paused, thinking for a moment, "I think I'll go have a look around town. You know, so my moving and creaking doesn't wake you."  
  
Zayne laughed again in a sleepy manner, "You don't have to do that. But if you want to, go ahead. If you get lost, just ask someone -anyone- for directions." He yawned and shifted in the bed, "Everyone knows where my house is. I'm going to warn you, however, that there are things in town you may find to be... well, unsettling. Try to take things in stride for now. It will all seem normal enough before you know it." He pulled the covers up and fell silent.  
  
"Sleep well, Zayne." Jack whispered, slipping from the room with as little sound as he could possibly manage.  
  
Almost two hours later, Jack and Zero were wandering about the streets of Halloween Town and observing all that they could. The people who walked the streets were a ghastly sight to see. Most of them were unspeakably pale, but not all of them, as it was a very diverse crowd. A very short, stout man with wild hair waddled along the street, a scowl upon his face and the top of a farmer's pitchfork in his hand. A tall, slender woman with tiny fangs sticking out over her ruby lips huddled under the shade of an umbrella as if her life depended on it. A dragon-like creature was slowly plodding down the road, grunting and growling to itself.  
  
There were very few people out and about at this hour, which also seemed odd. Wasn't the world supposed to be alive and running at nine o' clock in the morning? Well, if the townspeople were not alive, then the town didn't very well have to be alive, Jack figured.  
  
"Cute dog." The woman with the umbrella commented with a toothy smile. Zero seemed to realize this was a compliment to him and zipped over to her side to absorb some attention, which she gladly gave to him, kneeling and petting his misty body with thin fingers as she cooed more sweet words.  
  
Her dress was tight, black velvet, with a collar about her neck and a slit all the way up the side. Silver spider webs were stitched up the arms and about the collar. Similar spider webs were painted on her umbrella, which looked like there was a spider splayed over the top of it.  
  
"What's your name, cute little puppy?" She cooed out.  
  
"His name's Zero." Jack replied.  
  
She smiled, "And what's your master's name, little Zero?"  
  
"Jack." Came the reply, coupled with a skeleton grin at the silly little game of speaking through the dog.  
  
"New in town?" She finally asked Jack directly as she was still petting Zero.  
  
Jack nodded, "We got here last night." He replied, "On a road outside of town."  
  
"Ah." The woman said with a bit of a glint in her eye, "The road. I remember it. Don't happen to remember where is comes from, do ya?"  
  
"I was hoping you did, miss." Jack replied.  
  
"No." She stood and stepped towards him, twirling her umbrella with her fingers. Her voice was like silk as she spoke, "Would you be willing to go back and see what is there? You could get paid for it."  
  
Jack considered this a moment. He wasn't sure he should go back on the road. He wasn't even sure that he could, for that matter. Get paid? Was money still of use here?  
  
"Well," He replied after a moment's silence, "I'm not sure if I should. From what Zayne told me-"  
  
"Zayne?" She interrupted. "You've met with Zayne?"  
  
"Er, yes. He found me on the road," Jack replied, "and let me stay in his house last night."  
  
The woman seemed disappointed at this. She then put on a smile and stepped towards him, "Looks like you showed up just in time to party. You will be at the Halloween celebration tonight... won't you?" Her voice was sticky-sweet and pleading as she stepped up close to Jack, a slight pout upon her lips.  
  
Jack found himself taking a step back as she came too close. "I... believe so? M-more than likely?"  
  
"I look forward to seeing you there, Jack." She said. With that, she quickly slipped into the alley and was gone.  
  
Jack was left with a feeling of confusion. He wondered what that was all about. Who was she? He hadn't caught her name, and it seemed rather important now, for some reason.  
  
He hadn't much time to think about this, however. A rather scrawny black cat came out from another alley, and Zero promptly filled his duty as a dog upon seeing it. Jack had to chase the two down the street for sometime before he caught up to them. He still wasn't very good with his skeletal legs yet, and this was the first time he'd tried actually running with them. He stumbled a lot, and his joints made quite a bit of noise as he went. Even when he'd caught up, as he attempted to stop Zero from trying to maul the poor feline, the ghost dog kept slipping through his fingers quite literally.  
  
The chase continued into a town square looking area, where a large fountain with a gargoyle centerpiece sat at the joining of many roads. It was all decorated up for some sort of party, is seemed. Rows of jack-o- lanterns lined the roads leading away, spider webs made intricate patterns from building to building, and a few people were about, setting up some other such things.  
  
A stout man with a tall top hat that was taller than he was stood in the middle of all of this, and the black cat made a beeline for him, deciding that this absurdly tall hat would be a perfect place to get away from her pursuer.  
  
The short man squeaked as the animals suddenly attacked him. He proceeded to run about the square, flailing his arms and screaming, "Get it off! Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!" This drew the attention of everyone in the square, but no one seemed to lift a finger to help.  
  
Zero continued his pursuit of that cat for only a short time more. The screaming and flailing of this strange man eventually scared him off, as well as the cat, and each went their separate ways.  
  
With both animals gone now, the man collapsed in a heap to catch his breath. Jack hurried to his side, apologizing quickly for the actions of his dog and asking if the man was alright. Judging by his extremely pale face and the look of perpetual distress upon it, he was guessing the man wasn't. It was then that he noticed the very large badge upon the man's shirt that read "MAYOR." And that is when he started to worry that he and Zero were about to be in deep trouble.  
  
Jack helped the Mayor to his feet, apologizing again and scolding Zero. After a moment, the mayor seemed to gather his senses and dusted himself in a huffy manner. "Who are you?" He asked, looking annoyed.  
  
"My name is Jack, mister Mayor. I'm very sorry for what Zero did! I tried to stop him, but it's so hard to catch a ghost!"  
  
"What?" The Mayor asked, looking at Jack as if he were a total idiot, "Catching ghosts is simple! There's nothing to it!"  
  
"Well, er, I'm rather new at it, you see." Jack said, feeling embarrassed.  
  
The Mayor looked him up and down quickly, "I've never seen you before. Are you a new resident or something?" His tone was still a very annoyed one as he eyed Jack with suspicion.  
  
"I guess you could say that." Jack replied, deciding for himself at the moment that he must be, as he had no other place to go that he knew of. He stood a bit taller and stated with more confidence, "Yes, I am, actually."  
  
Suddenly, the Mayor did something that made Jack jump back: His head spun around! On the other side of his head there was another face, less pale with a ridiculously happy expression and a spiraled eye. This new face grinned at him and stated in a chipper tone, "Oh, welcome, welcome!" The Mayor clasped Jack's bone hand with both of his large pudgy ones and shook it quickly, "Welcome to our town, er... what did you say your name was, again?"  
  
Jack stammered out his name as he stared in shock. Of all the things he'd seen so far, this had to be the strangest.  
  
The Mayor took no notice of Jack's expression and continued on in his chipper tone, "We must make an appointment for you to meet with the Pumpkin King at once! We'd better have that all straightened out before tonight! It's going to be the biggest Halloween celebration to date, you know! We have so many last minute preparations to do!"  
  
Jack tried to get a word in, but was cut off quickly as the Mayor turned, spun his head back around to the upset face, and shouted to some ghouls who were hanging up a huge banner between buildings, "Wait! Wait! That's all wrong! You have it upside down! Flip it around! Flip it around!"  
  
The two ghouls exchanged a glance, one of them muttering about it not mattering which way they hung it. (Obviously, neither one could read, or they would have known that you can't very well hang a banner with words on it upside down.)  
  
The banner problem corrected, the Mayor's face spun about once more and he chirped out, "Oh, that's much better! Up a little higher now! There we go! Much better!"  
  
"Er, mister Mayor?" Jack asked, trying to get his attention again.  
  
The Mayor turned to him, almost as if he were seeing him for the first time. "Oh, yes!" He said, suddenly remembering, "We have to take you to see the Pumpkin King! We can't delay now! Hurry!"  
  
"That's just the thing, I-"  
  
He was cut off again as there was a loud crashing sound from not far away. The Mayor turned quick as a flash, his head spinning to the distressed face as he screamed at a small ghoul who had stumbled and dropped a good deal of tools. "Careful with those! If you break them, we don't have replacements!"  
  
"Sir, I've already-"  
  
The Mayor faced Jack yet again, the happy face returning, "To the King's house, then! Straight away!" He latched onto Jack's wrist and started to lead him back to Zayne's.  
  
This was becoming very frustrating.  
  
The two were at the gates of Zayne's home before Jack could get enough words in to tell the Mayor that he'd already met with Zayne and that everything was taken care of. Still, it had proved to him that the insane scarecrow was, indeed, telling the truth about being a King.  
  
The Mayor's head spun once more to the upset side, making Jack almost wish he hadn't said a thing, just so he'd stop doing that. The Mayor apologized for himself and, after saying it was alright as few times, Jack slipped inside the jack-o-lantern gates and quickly bounded up the steps. He was in the door before the Mayor could react, and he quickly shut it behind himself.  
  
"Whew!" Jack breathed, looking down at Zero, who had followed in just as quickly, "Did you see that?! That was the most disturbing thing I've ever seen!"  
  
Not that he could remember anything he'd ever seen beyond the night before, but he was pretty sure this was true.  
  
"You met the Mayor?" Zayne's voice came from somewhere beyond the entryway.  
  
"How'd you guess?" Jack asked, following the voice.  
  
"Lucky shot." Zayne replied with a laugh. "He's a character, eh? A real two-faced politician... But don't worry, he's harmless, and you'll get used to him."  
  
Jack wasn't so sure he liked the idea of this.  
  
The sound of Zayne's voice led him back to the dark bedroom. The flicker of candlelight told him that Zayne was awake now, but still laying in bed.  
  
"Go back to bed, Jack." Zayne advised, "You'll thank me for it later if you do, because you're likely going to be out all night."  
  
"I don't think I could sleep." Jack replied.  
  
"Tell you what." Zayne said, sitting up in the bed. He motioned into the back of the shadowy room with a twig hand, "Go into my wardrobe, find something that'll fit you. Then head to the washroom, get out of those mud- encrusted rags you've got on, and polish up your bones. Then you head back to bed and see if you can pull off dozing a few more hours. You're gonna need it, trust me."  
  
Jack nodded in agreement and slipped to the back of the room. Before long, the room went dark again, a sure sign that Zayne was falling back to sleep. Luckily, Jack had already found some cloths. He tried to leave the room in silence, but failed miserably. With a bit of a sigh, he wondered if his bones would ever really stop that annoying creek that was starting to bother him, and he headed off for the washroom.  
  
He would return to bed and, eventually, get those extra hours of rest that Zayne advised. Little would he realize at the time that he most defiantly would need them...  
  
  
  
Story © Gina Trujillo, Dec. 25, 2002. (Merry Christmas!) Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton. 


	2. First Halloween

Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne, who is my character  
  
~First Halloween~  
  
Bonfires burned brightly all over Halloween Town, each one monitored by an appointed ghoul. The streets were alive with a wide range of creatures: ghosts, werewolves, vampires, witches, demons of all shapes and sizes, and a lot of things that Jack couldn't even give name to. But he didn't see any other walking skeletons about, which made him feel a bit out of place in some weird way.  
  
A band in the square played eerie tunes that people were dancing to. There were tables on almost every street corner with free food and drink, but most of it was disgusting to look at, at least, in Jack's opinion. He was sure he'd get used to it all in time, but right now was not that time at all. He was nowhere close to ready for rat-gut-on-a-stick washed down with a cup of goat's blood. There were large bows of candy, however, and these seemed fairly normal by the standards he was used to. He thought to sample some of this, but didn't, as he decided it was rather impossible.  
  
Jack tugged at his tunic in annoyance, trying to find a way to force the shirt to not slip off of his thin shoulders. It seemed that the plan of wearing some of Zayne's clothing was less than prefect, as the Pumpkin King was of a much broader stature than he. While he'd laced the tunic as tight as it would go, it was still trying to fall off of him. As for the pants, those were securely tied to his body with rope to ensure that they would not fall off. After discovering all of this, he would have put on his old cloths again, but couldn't, for he'd had to rip them in order to peal them off of his body.  
  
Zayne suddenly found him in the crowd, pulling him aside. "Thought I'd catch up to you before I have to do my show. How you enjoying yourself? Be honest, now."  
  
Jack shrugged a bit, "Not to complain, but... The food is disgusting, the people are... odd, to say the least, it's freezing cold out here, and I feel almost naked in this!" He stooped slightly to show Zayne what he meant. The large neckline of the tunic drooped down and one could see right along the inside of his spine and through his ribs, straight to the bottom of the shirt.  
  
Laughing, Zayne clapped Jack on the back, "Ah, don't worry about it!" From Jack's stooped over position, the friendly slap nearly sent him nose- diving into the ground, never mind that fact that he had no nose.  
  
Zayne quickly selected a small bottle from a near by table. He uncorked it and shoved it towards Jack. "Here! You should recognize this!"  
  
Jack leaned towards the bottle a bit and smelled the clear liquid. Vodka. He felt a slight grin cross his face, but it was quickly replaced with a look of bewilderment. "I can't drink, though... can I?"  
  
Zayne nodded, "Go ahead and take it! Drink all you want!"  
  
"But," Jack protested, "if I drink, where does it go?"  
  
Zayne stared at him for a moment, blankly. His brow then furrowed and he said in a dead serious tone, "Don't question that, Jack. Do not question your very existence." He shoved the vodka towards him again, "Drink up, and stop worrying!"  
  
Jack hesitated only a moment longer, then took the bottle in his bone hands and took a quick swig. He waited a moment in curiosity to see if it would soak thought his shirt or something. It didn't. It simply disappeared to who knows where.  
  
"Told you." Zayne said, grinning. He started to turn to leave, "Don't drink too much! You may be dead, but you can still get hangovers!" He warned, "I've gotta get going, the show's about to start!" And with that, he disappeared into the crowd.  
  
Wondering what 'show' Zayne was referring to, Jack shrugged to himself and took another drink from the bottle. He told himself that he wasn't going to drink too much of it... but it tasted so good at the moment, like something he'd been missing for a very long time, and yet he couldn't remember ever having drunk it before this moment. Still, it was very familiar, somehow.  
  
Continuing down the street, Jack kept watching the people. He was one of the tallest in the crowd, at least of the creatures with a human-like stature. Even so, there weren't many large beasts about. Most of the townsfolk seemed to be rather short, in fact.  
  
Suddenly, the band struck up a song that sounded somewhat familiar to Jack. It caught everyone's attention and they all cleared the streets and seemed to take per-assigned places. A few lingered behind, mostly the younger ones, seeming to be waiting for something. Slightly confused, Jack patted his leg for Zero to come to his side and waited out of the way in a corner, watching with great curiosity.  
  
A chorus of voices came, singing a song that was rather creepy and morbid, and yet beautiful at the same time.  
  
"Gentle folks, both young and old, Here's a story you should be told. Listen now as we all sing, Of our town of Halloween."  
  
The voices suddenly erupted even louder, as if all the townspeople were singing the chorus line.  
  
"This is Halloween! This is Halloween! Dancing ghouls under the moon. This is Halloween! This is Halloween! Enjoy your life, you'll join us soon! It's the truth! Isn't just a dream! It's our town of Halloween."  
  
Jack leaned against the wall as he watched and listened. Parades of ghouls filtered into the square from all angles, each doing something different to characterize just who they were. Ghosts did loops in the air as witches flew on their broomsticks. A group of werewolves charged thought the scene, leaping about the fountain and snarling at each other in a petty squabble as they forgot that they were supposed to be singing along, as well. A strange demon broke up the fight by taking a flying leap right through the middle of it all and smacking a wolf on the nose. All previous quarrels were forgotten as the wolf charged after the offending creature and they disappeared from Jack's sight.  
  
This was all strange to say the least, and Jack felt himself shrinking deeper into his corner as these crazy festivities started fanning out more and drawing closer. He took a few more sips from his vodka bottle and tried to tell himself it was all fine, that this was normal. He tried to comfort himself with the fact that Zero was there.  
  
...Zero?  
  
Jack looked about quickly as he realized his dog had gone missing. He quickly spotted the creature, however, right in the middle of everything, performing wild loops in the sky along with the other ghosts.  
  
If Zero was that relaxed, then things couldn't be that bad, Jack decided. He, too, started to relax and was even considering joining into the crowd.  
  
Suddenly, Jack recognized the song's lyrics, but he wasn't sure from where.  
  
"Listen now for the banshee wail, Chills at night, your skin turned pale. Blood runs cold and bones charred black! Seems old Zayne's caught you in his trap! This is Halloween! This is Halloween! Halloween, Halloween! Halloween, Halloween!"  
  
He knew now. Zayne had been singing this song when he'd met up with him on the road. He anticipated what was to come and braced himself as the song continued.  
  
"Dead of night, hear that scream? 'Tis the rage of the Pumpkin King!"  
  
Sure enough, there was the same loud, haunting shriek as from the night before, only magnified three fold and accompanied by a huge blast of fire mysteriously leaping up out of the fountain. Werewolves who were still bickering about this area yelped loudly and leapt backwards from the flames. Townspeople screamed in surprise, the words of the song coming to a halt as all eyes turned to the inferno that had just leapt up out of nowhere. The band, however, continued to play, giving the scene a sense of being planned.  
  
The flames died down a bit. There sat Zayne, perched atop the fountain's gargoyle. Each of his twig hands seemed to be ablaze and he thrust them both towards the sky, cackling like a madman. Flames leapt from his mouth and eyes more than even the night before. He repeated the last lines of the song slowly in a low and menacing tone as he spread his fiery hands wide, "Dead of night... hear that scream? 'Tis the rage of the Pumpkin King!"  
  
He screamed once again, then twisted and dove into the fountain, disappearing from sight. All the flames went out and the square was dark once again. It took only a moment for Zayne to leap out of the fountain. Soaking wet, he shook off as best he could and took a quick bow amid all of the cheering and clapping. Once this died down enough, he crossed his arms behind his back and spoke up, "Thank you, everyone, for making yet another horrible Halloween celebration possible! It is now time to hand out the prizes to this year's contest winners! Mayor, if you will do the honors."  
  
The Mayor stepped up to the fountain side, a few ghouls carrying small crates of ribbons and trophies following. Zayne slipped away from the scene in quite a hurry and off towards a back alley.  
  
The Mayor announced which of the ghosts had won the award for most houses successfully haunted in a single year's time, but Jack ignored this. It didn't matter to him, as he didn't know anyone yet, and thus he had no friends who he could cheer for. The only thing close to a friend he'd made was Zayne, and something told him that not all was well with the Pumpkin King at the moment. He quickly headed into the alley he'd seen Zayne go into.  
  
A few twists and turns later, Jack could hear a very creepy voice, sounding like it belonged to an old man. "Hm, this is far worse than I had anticipated. I had hoped the formula would work better than this."  
  
"Can you fix it?" Zayne's voice came, sounding worried.  
  
Jack crept closer, wondering what was going on.  
  
"I may be able too, but it could take some time for them to work properly again if I replace them." The aged voice replied. "I'd estimate a month, at least. Perhaps two. It all depends on circumstances."  
  
"That's fine. The only problem will be keeping anyone from noticing during that time. I don't want them-" The voices fell silent for a moment. "Jack?" Zayne then whispered.  
  
Jack inwardly cursed his noisy joints and stepped around the corner to face them.  
  
The aged voice, evidently, belonged to a strange looking man in a wheelchair. His head was domed and the top seemed bolted on. He had lips much like a duckbill and small, dark glasses covered his eyes. He sneered at Jack in suspicion, "And who are you?" He demanded.  
  
Jack didn't answer. He had noticed Zayne, propped against the wall and looking distressed about something. He'd quickly put his hands behind his back, but not quick enough, as Jack saw just a moment before they were hidden that his twig fingers looked like charcoal. He looked to the King in total shock.  
  
"It'll be fine." Zayne said in a quiet tone, "Doctor Finkelstien said he can replace them."  
  
"You would burn your hands off for a show?" Jack asked in alarm.  
  
"It wasn't the plan." Zayne replied, sounding a bit offended, "The doctor had made me a formula to coat them in that would keep the flame off of my hands and should have-"  
  
The doctor snapped in annoyance, "It didn't work! Another failure, but you don't have to rub it in!" He started wheeling his chair down the alley, "But no harm. I can fix what needs to be mended. Come with me, your majesty." He shot an angry glare over his shoulder, "And if bone-boy over there says a word about this to anyone, I'll-"  
  
"He won't." Zayne interrupted calmly. He then looked back to Jack, "Go back to the party, Jack. Enjoy yourself, and I'll meet you back at my home around sunrise. The door's unlocked, let yourself in if I'm not there."  
  
Jack nodded in reply, a look of concern on his face, no matter how he tried to hide it. Reluctantly, he slipped back down the alley and to the town square.  
  
He wouldn't worry about Zayne for much longer. as a matter of fact, he wouldn't remember much of the rest of the night. It all became a blank in his memory shortly after that...  
  
  
  
Story © Gina Trujillo, Dec 25. 2002. (Merry Christmas!) Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton. 


	3. Vodka is Bad

Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne and Game, Set and Match, who are my characters.  
  
  
  
~Vodka is Bad~  
  
Late afternoon found Jack lying upon the couch in Zayne's library, with no memory as to how he'd gotten there. He sat up slowly, holding his skull in both hands. This was another familiar feeling, and yet he didn't necessarily remember it.  
  
Slowly, he forced himself to stand and head down the many stairs from the tower. He wondered how anyone had managed to get him up those steps in the state he must have been in the night before. It must have been quite the job for whoever had done it. Zayne, likely. He would have to apologize to him for whatever stupid things he might have done. He wondered how much of a fool he'd made of himself at the celebration. Did Zayne even make it home last night? What about Zero? Had he lost his dog while he was stumbling about with God knows who doing God knows what?  
  
He suddenly seemed to remember something that he'd determined in life: Vodka is bad.  
  
Reaching the bottom of the stairs seemed to take forever. He made his way down the hall and into the entryway, checking Zayne's room on the way. He wasn't there, but the bed sheets where tossed. Zayne had made the bed the day before, so he must have come home and slept in it.  
  
Zero was in the entryway, chewing vigorously at a rib bone he'd found somewhere. Something about the mere thought of this made Jack shudder slightly, but at least he knew his dog was alright. He proceeded to search the rest of the house for the Pumpkin King.  
  
He found Zayne sitting in a large den area. He was slumped in an armchair to the point of almost laying down, his legs up on a footstool. Jack came and slumped into the chair opposite from him, rubbing his skull with one hand.  
  
"I warned you, didn't I?" Zayne said with a smirk.  
  
"Yes. You did." Jack replied in a slightly bitter tone.  
  
"But did you listen?" Zayne teased.  
  
"I don't know. I can't remember." Jack replied with a slight laugh, "Judging from this hangover, no." He leaned his head back and closed his eyeless sockets, and said absently, "This is exactly why I quit drinking."  
  
There was a pause before Zayne spoke, "Oh, really?"  
  
Jack slowly looked at him with an expression of realization. "Yes. Really."  
  
Zayne seemed slightly worried, "You remember that?"  
  
"I remember I... I used to drink... but I stopped because," He glanced about the room, looking almost terrified as he spoke of memories he'd previously forgotten, "because I always overdo it... and I get bad hangovers."  
  
Zayne looked almost equally worried, for reason's unknown. He then shook his head slightly and changed the subject, "You're lucky I stopped by to check in on you. Zero and I had to rescue you from Game, Set and Match."  
  
Jack held his head for a moment, thinking he'd just misheard what Zayne had said, "Come again?"  
  
"Game, Set and Match, three troublemakers here in Halloween Town. They were about to make off with you when I showed up. Zero was already fending them off as best he could, so it wasn't too hard to convince them to leave you alone. I might add that you weren't of much help, however." He scowled slightly, "That'll teach me to give you any vodka! At least until you're more used to your legs!"  
  
Zero came wandering into the room, the mysterious bone he'd found clasped in his transparent muzzle. He settled at Zayne's feet and continued to gnaw away, not making a single mark on the bone.  
  
"What do you think they wanted with me?" Jack asked, watching his dog in puzzlement.  
  
"Who knows?" Zayne replied, shrugging, "Could have been any one of a number of things. Seems that Set had her eye on you, though." He cleared his throat, "If you catch my drift."  
  
Jack seemed to choke slightly and he sat up sharply, "What?! But, why?! I mean, I'm a skeleton, for God's sake!"  
  
Zayne nodded slowly, partly missing Jack's point, "That's what makes it so odd, seeing as she's a vampire. Not sure what she'd want with someone who has no blood. I'm guessing it was all under orders from their master. He's a conniving one, and I think he still is out for reven-"  
  
Zayne was interrupted suddenly. Jack, while watching Zero chew on his prize bone, had a sudden feeling or perhaps a realization. He quickly patted his own sides, counting all the ribs under his tunic. "Hey!" He shouted suddenly, standing, "Zero! That's mine! Bad dog!"  
  
Zero quickly picked up the rib and fled from the room with Jack in pursuit. Zayne sat in his chair and laughed long and hard. The chase spilled back into the den before long, and Zayne laughed even harder as he watched Jack's hands pass right through the dog in his attempts to catch him.  
  
"Stop, stop!" Zayne managed to say between laughs, "You're doing, haha! You're doing it all wrong! You'll never catch him like that!"  
  
"What?" Jack demanded, not in any type of mood to be laughed at, "What am I doing wrong?"  
  
"It's impossible to catch a ghost, you know!" Zayne said, "So don't try to catch a ghost!"  
  
Jack looked at him in frustration. "Are you suggesting I give up?"  
  
Zayne shook his head, "Alright, I'll spell it out for you this once, kid. Stop thinking of Zero as a ghost, and start thinking of him as your dog. It'll make things a lot easier."  
  
Jack seemed to ponder this a moment. Zero zipped past him on a beeline for the entryway once again. With what Zayne told him in mind, he stooped, grabbed at the little ghost dog, and caught him! His hands didn't pass through the creature as all the times before. This must have startled Zero, as he let out a yelp and dropped the bone on the floor.  
  
"Bad dog!" Jack told him again, tucking the creature under one arm as he bent to pick up his lost rib. Zero wiggled and struggled until Jack set him loose again.  
  
It soon came to Jack's attention that the Pumpkin King was staring at him in shock. He returned this with a confused expression  
  
"That," Zayne explained, "is the fastest I've ever seen anyone learn ghost catching."  
  
A bit of a proud look crossed Jack's face, but it was quickly gone as a sharp pain shot through his skull once again. He slumped back into the chair and rubbed his head as he looked at the rib bone in his hand. "Can this be reattached?" He asked, holding it up towards Zayne.  
  
Zayne nodded, "I'd show you how, but..." He held up each of his hands. They were now twigs again, unlike when Jack had seen them all but burnt off the night before. However, the twig hands didn't seem as alive as they should. Paralyzed in a straight position, the fingers would do him little good for anything. "So I guess you're on your own for this one."  
  
"Is it really going to take a month for you to use them, again?"  
  
"The doctor estimated about three weeks before I can even move them very well, a month and a half before they're back to normal." Zayne replied with a sigh, "It's gonna be a long month... and I don't want anyone to know that the doctor and I messed up that badly."  
  
"I'm not about to tell anyone." Jack reassured him.  
  
"Thank you, Jack, but I wasn't worried about that. Planning for next Halloween starts today, believe it or not, and I can't let the Mayor see me when he comes by later. Could you do me a huge favor and talk to him for me?"  
  
"What do you want me to say?" Jack asked, not liking the thought of having to speak with the Mayor again. Still, Zayne had been kind enough to put a roof over his head and cloths on his body, so it was the least he could do to repay him.  
  
"It doesn't really matter what you say." Zayne said, "Just tell him I'm busy and that I've assigned you as my message taker, or something to that effect. He shouldn't stay for very long if you keep him outside and just tell him I can't talk at the moment."  
  
No sooner had this been said, but there came a sound of a ringing mingled with a scream. Jack jumped, but Zayne didn't even flinch. "Doorbell." He explained, "I believe the Mayor is right on time."  
  
The doorbell was rung again and, sure enough, the Mayor's voice came from outside. "Zayne? I've got the plans for next Halloween!"  
  
The Mayor seemed rather shocked when Jack answered the door, opening it just enough to slip outside and then shutting it behind himself. The tall skeleton man squinted painfully in the sunlight, his hangover not agreeing with it very well.  
  
"Where's Zayne?" The Mayor asked in a puzzled tone, his upset face taking over.  
  
"He's instructed me to take a message. He's a bit busy right now." Jack replied, rubbing his head.  
  
The Mayor eyed Jack with suspicion. "I must speak with him at once so we can get started on the planning for next Halloween!" He held up a small bundle of scrolls and blueprints.  
  
"I'm afraid he is busy at the moment." Jack insisted, "You can give the plans to me and I'll show them to him later."  
  
"But I have things I must tell him about each one! I can't just give them to you!"  
  
Jack sighed and held his skull, "Hold on." He slipped back into the house, returning a moment later with a few blank leaflets, a quill and an inkwell. He seated himself upon the steps as he uncapped the ink, "Go ahead, I'm listening."  
  
The Mayor still looked skeptical. He didn't much trust Jack yet, and it was very unlike Zayne to not come speak with him about Halloween planning. Still, it seemed as if Jack was not going to give up.  
  
The Mayor started to unroll the papers under his arm one by one and he explained things very quickly, hoping that Jack would loose what he was saying and have to finally break down and pull Zayne away from whatever it was he was 'busy' with. Much to the Mayor's disappointment, however, Jack only nodded in reply to everything and kept scribbling furiously on the paper, returning the quill to the inkwell many times before the Mayor had said all that he had to say.  
  
"Alright!" The Mayor finished. He was at wit's end, not knowing what to do. An idea suddenly struck him. His face switched to the smiling one and he said, "That's all! Now, read that back to me!"  
  
Jack lifted his head slowly, giving him a very annoyed, hung-over glare.  
  
"I just want to make sure you got everything!" The Mayor said in an overly chipper tone that contrasted with the horribly annoyed one he'd used to tell all the messages to Jack with.  
  
"Oh. I got it all." Jack replied, still glaring slightly.  
  
"I just want to make sure! Our next Halloween depends on this, you understand. I want to be positively, absolutely sure it's all taken down and gets to Zayne!"  
  
Jack sighed, rubbing his head again. "Forgive me." He stated after a moment, "I have a hangover." Then, much to the Mayor's shock, he looked back to the paper and started to recite back everything that had been told to him, almost word for word.  
  
The Mayor's head spun around again and he showed annoyance at being out smarted. "That should do." He grumbled, then turned on his heels and waddled down the steps and out the gate.  
  
"Why do people always give you the hardest time when you've been up all night?" He muttered to himself as he gathered up all the papers and headed back inside.  
  
  
  
Story © Gina Trujillo, Dec 26. 2002. Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton. 


	4. How'd ya do it, Jack?

Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne and Game, Set and Match, who are my characters.  
  
  
  
~"How'd ya do it, Jack?"~  
  
"The vampires think there should be more involvement of bats in this next celebration, while the general opinion of the werewolves is that there should be fewer bats, as they get distracted by the 'little winged rodents' when hunting instincts take over in mid-celebration."  
  
"Hunting instincts? Since when do werewolves eat bats?"  
  
"I'm not sure, majesty. That's just what they said, and I didn't question. I had a distinct feeling the alpha female was about to start gnawing on my arm."  
  
"Ah. Yes, I get that feeling from her sometimes, too."  
  
Jack was pacing in the den, reading off of his notes from a meeting he'd just gone to on Zayne's behalf. After how well he'd taken the messages from the Mayor, Zayne had asked him if he would help him with the planning of Halloween until his hands healed. Jack agreed to this and, for the past four weeks, had been going to meetings, answering the door, and dealing with Zayne's business as best he could.  
  
The Pumpkin King was impressed with how quickly Jack was catching onto the order of things, and how well he took down notes and relayed messages. It made him wonder at times just what Jack had been in life, but the thoughts were quickly dismissed, as he didn't want to be a hypocrite and think about life when he'd told Jack so many times not to.  
  
"Furthermore, there seems to be a small shortage of pumpkins this year, and so we're going to have to figure out some sort of replacement for those." He paused for only half a moment before he changed the subject, "And I have to get to another meeting with the Mayor about now, so I hope you can read my scribbles, Zayne."  
  
Zayne laughed, "We both know you handwriting isn't legible to anyone but yourself. You can read me the rest along with the new notes when you return."  
  
Jack set the notes down on the table, "Wish me luck." He said, and was out the door in a flash.  
  
The streets of Halloween Town were full of people, now that the sun was setting. Over the past weeks, Jack had noticed that the town was much more lively in the afternoon and evenings. It was almost as if the healthy bedtime for a child was around two o' clock in the morning and waking up at noon was about par for everyone. He'd taken a cue from the rest of the people around and started sleeping later, the strange need to do something in the morning vanishing.  
  
He was no longer borrowing ill-fitting cloths. Zayne had given him some money, (which he found did still have value in this world,) and told him to get the tailor to make him something. And so, Jack was now walking about Halloween Town in well-fitted pants and dark tunics that closed all the way to his neck, always tied at the middle with a belt. He was a bit puzzled to find he felt more comfortable in tight clothing now, as he wasn't sure he'd ever worn anything of the like before. But that past was just that, and he tried, as Zayne advised, not to think about it. He was finding it to be wise advice, as when little bits and pieces of memory would creep into his mind, he would usually feel sort of weak and shaky, or even scared sometimes.  
  
By now, his joints had almost stopped creaking and clattering altogether, and Zayne was instructing him in the ways of stealthier walking. He'd also gotten up enough courage to sample some of the Halloween foods. He'd only done so once. It wasn't that he didn't like it, but rather because he did like it and that scared him. He decided that, while his tastes had changed enough to find eye of newt and bat's blood to be good, his mind wasn't exactly ready for that yet, and perhaps he'd try again when he'd gotten a bit more settled.  
  
He was also getting used to all of the strange things and people in Halloween Town, even the Mayor. The whole spinning head bit was becoming more and more comical to him than anything, and he was sure that total acceptance was the next step from there.  
  
However, it seemed that the opposite was true of the townspeople's view of Jack. While they all were nice enough to him to his face, he sometimes felt a twinge of something in them. Angry? Nervousness? Fear? He wasn't sure what it was. He also noticed that some people quickened their pace when meeting him on the street, or would even nonchalantly cross to the other side of the road. At first he thought he was imagining it, and that he was just being paranoid of getting singled out and rejected. Still, as time went on, this was hard to ignore.  
  
As he made his way down the street that day, he noticed the same old things once more. While everyone was sure to say hello, it was almost as if they felt they had to do so or else. As he pondered this, a snake-looking creature with a woman's head and tentacle like arms slithered out of an alley. She smiled at him and said in a hissing voice, "Hello, Jack. Niccce to ssssee you again."  
  
Jack couldn't remember ever seeing her before, and the confused expression on his face must have given it away.  
  
"What'sss the matter? Don't remember? That'sss alright. You were sssort of wasssted."  
  
Jack seemed relieved that she wasn't angry, and that she had pointed out when they had met. Once more, he cursed himself for having had so much vodka that night.  
  
Slender hands with black-painted nails suddenly slipped about his thin body from behind, latching onto the front of his belt. "Hello, Jack." A voice whispered.  
  
"Er, hello?" Jack replied as he looked over his shoulder to find the young woman he'd talked to the day before Halloween was leaning upon him. She flashed him a toothy smile, and Jack now has enough knowledge of this world to know that she was a vampire.  
  
"I know you were sober when we met, so I do hope you remember." She said a pouting tone.  
  
"Come with usss, Jack. We mussst talk." The snake woman said.  
  
"Er, I would," Jack said, carefully pulling the vampire's hands off of his belt, "but I'm late for a meeting, you see."  
  
A large werewolf hand suddenly jutted out from the alley, scooping up Jack by the waist and dragging him off the street. The skeleton found that he was staring at a ragged looking werewolf man moments later.  
  
"How'd ya do it, Jack?" The wolf asked in a rough voice, "How'd ya do it, huh? What's the secret? We won't tell!"  
  
"How'd I do what?" Jack asked in confusion.  
  
"How'd you off him?" The vampire replied.  
  
Jack turned to her in shock, "What?! Who?"  
  
"You know who." The werewolf said, "How'd you do it? A scrawny little guy like you? How'd it happen?"  
  
"You poisssoned him, right?" The snake asked, her eyes glinting with excitement, "Poisssoned him, and then sssliced him to ribbonsss while he wasss unconsssciousss!"  
  
"No, you just waited until he was asleep, didn't you?" The vampire piped up before Jack could reply, "Dozing soundly in his bed, not suspecting a thing, and then WHAM!" He hit her fist upon the palm of her hand, "Ya got him with some blunt object to the head!"  
  
"You're both wrong!" The werewolf growled, "He did it Halloween night! After Zayne took 'im away from us! He got some fire and said, "Let's see ya do that again!" and WHOOSH! Up in flames! HAHA!"  
  
"What are you talking about?!" Jack finally demanded, "I didn't kill anyone!"  
  
"Uh, huh!" They all said in a sarcastic tone.  
  
"I didn't!" Jack insisted. He then hesitated, "That is. not that I remember." There was still the matter of his life that he couldn't remember, and Halloween night was a blank.  
  
Halloween night.  
  
He turned to the werewolf, "What did you just say about Halloween?"  
  
"That's when you got him!" The wolf replied with a toothy grin, "Just took some of the fire that was all over the place and told him to do his trick again. That was a great trick, too!" He added.  
  
Slowly the pieces came together in his mind and his jaw went slack. "You" He stammered, "...y-you think that I... that I... killed Zayne?"  
  
"Yeah, how'd ya do it?" The werewolf pressed on with a puppy-like enthusiasm, "With the flames, huh?! Oh, please say it was the flames!"  
  
"It was poissson, you ssstupid!" The snake hissed.  
  
"No, Jack's not like that!" The vampire protested, "He waited until he was asleep!"  
  
"Poissson!" The snake insisted.  
  
"Sleep!" The vampire snapped.  
  
"Fire!" Growled the wolf.  
  
The three erupted into a physical fight, and Jack fled from the alley. He didn't remember running back to Zayne's house. He didn't remember yanking the gates open and sprinting up the steps. He only remembered busting in thought the front door and skidding into the den in a near panic.  
  
"They think I killed you!" He said as the Pumpkin King stared at him in confusion.  
  
Zayne's eyes got wider. He'd never thought the townspeople would jump to such a conclusion.  
  
Jack held the sides of his head and started pacing, "It only makes sense! I mean, I've been staying here, and I just took over everything, and no one's seen you after Halloween night..."  
  
Zayne tried to interrupt. "Jack."  
  
Jack just continued, "...and I don't let anyone into the house, and you don't answer the door when I'm not here..."  
  
"Jack?"  
  
"...and I'm sure lots of people saw me follow you into the alley that night and then come back alone, and-"  
  
"Jack!" Zayne nearly shouted this time.  
  
Jack fell silent. He closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck, trying to calm himself from his panic.  
  
"Now, who told you this?" Zayne asked calmly.  
  
"I don't know who they were! I met one of them on Halloween, in the morning. Another one knew me from that night, which I don't remember, and I don't know about the last. He could have just been there. They were a snake woman, a vampire and-"  
  
"Werewolf." Zayne finished.  
  
Jack nodded, wondering how the Pumpkin King knew this.  
  
Zayne sighed, "Game, Set and Match." He said, then fell silent for a moment as he thought. The trio wasn't known for being truthful, but this sounded pretty serious. If they hadn't picked up on this one as a rumor, it was going to soon be a rumor that they were going to spread like a plague, no doubt.  
  
Zayne looked to his own hands. His fingers twitched slightly as he tried to make them move, but he couldn't put his hands into fists yet. Still, it was enough to hold his hands in a natural looking position.  
  
That was all he needed.  
  
Zayne stood from his chair, motioning for Jack to follow as he headed for the door. "C'mon. Let's go."  
  
"What?" Jack asked in surprise, "Are you sure?"  
  
"Positive." Zayne replied, "I got you into this mess, so I better get you out before it's too late. I'll go with you to this one, show them all that I'm still here, and you'll be off the hook." He looked down at Zero, who was laying in a basket that had been set up for him in the den, "Take care of the house while we're gone, Zero." He said.  
  
The ghost dog snoozed on in reply.  
  
"You coming?" Zayne asked.  
  
Jack nodded once, following Zayne out the open door, which he had forgotten to close in his hurry inside.  
  
  
  
Story © Gina Trujillo, Dec 26. 2002. Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton. 


	5. Zayne's Announcement

Ok, THIS is the chapter you've been waiting for. There's actually some action and things should start to pick up from here.  
  
Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne and Game, Set and Match, who are my characters.  
  
  
  
~Zayne's Announcement~  
  
Town Hall was just around the bend. It was the place where all the meetings were held in Halloween Town. Jack was leading the way there, Zayne teetering along behind him. Jack's strides had become longer and longer as he got more used to his legs, and so he had to slow himself down every now and then so that Zayne could catch up.  
  
Jack was the first to step around the bend in the street, which was the primary mistake. The moment he did so, he was grabbed by four sets of hands and yanked amid a huge crown that had gathered out in front of Town Hall. Almost everyone in town must have been there!  
  
A large cart was parked out in front, being drawn by a snarling creature that resembled a rabid griffin. Scrolled across the side of the cart in gothic lettering were the words "Halloween Town Guard," and a door with small, barred windows was on the back.  
  
The four who had grabbed him were clad in guard uniforms. They forced him to the ground, one of them pinning him there with a knee upon his spine. He snapped a shackle about one of Jack's wrists, "You are under arrest for the murder of-"  
  
"He's not dead!" Jack tried to scream over the shouting of the angry townspeople. "He's not! He's right-"  
  
The sidewalk quickly muffled Jack's words as the guard pushed his head down into it, "You may remain silent." He growled in a bitter tone.  
  
Zayne came around the corner at that moment. He stared in confusion at the whole scene, unable to see his friend on the ground, for there were too many people between them now. Few people really saw him, as all eyes were upon Jack. The ones who did see him, however, gave a cheer of amazement that would slowly spread over the whole crowd, but not fast enough, it seemed.  
  
In the same instant, Jack forced his head up off of the sidewalk and spat out a tooth. He struggled like mad to keep his other wrist away from the guard, but the other three of them were closing in fast to help restrain him. If he was going to do anything, he had to do it fast.  
  
Most of the proceeding was later a blur to Jack. The frustration building, he let out a loud growl. No, it was a roar... an inhuman, ear- splitting roar that seemed to shake the foundations of the building. His hands broke free of the guard's in the split second of shock that followed this. Jack twisted around while still beneath the man, now able to face him.  
  
Before the guard knew what was happening, Jack bucked his hips and threw him to the ground to get his own face-full of sidewalk. The skeleton then leapt to his feet and straight over the heads of the crowd. He landed at Zayne's side and made a wide motion to him with both hands. "You see?! Here he is!"  
  
The street fell dead silent, except for the occasional moan of pain from the man Jack had thrown off.  
  
The Mayor was the first to do anything. He charged to Zayne's side, grabbing up his hand and shaking it vigorously. Zayne could hardly even feel this, and made his shock an excuse to not shake back.  
  
"Zayne! You're alive!" The Mayor cheered. Everyone soon cheered as well, overjoyed to see the King again.  
  
"Well, of course I am!" Zayne replied, "What is this? I fall ill for a few days, and you have my temporary replacement arrested?"  
  
"We all thought you were dead!" The Mayor said, his head spinning to the distressed face as he tried to defend his reasons.  
  
"We are all dead, Mayor." Zayne reminded him.  
  
"But, we thought that Jack got rid of you!" The Mayor said, pointing a shaking finger at Jack.  
  
"Hardly." Zayne said, "As you can see, I'm just fine. Now, are you going to continue to assault the future Prince, or shall we get to our meeting?"  
  
"Prince?!" Everyone, including Jack, stated in unison.  
  
Zayne only smiled slyly. He then made his way up the steps and into the Town Hall, all of the officials quickly following him inside and all of the townsfolk slowly dispersing.  
  
Jack stood in total confusion for a moment. His gaze dropped to the sidewalk and he knelt for a moment to pick up the tooth that had been knocked out. He wondered if it could be put back in place, just as his rib bone had been.  
  
Prince? What was Zayne talking about?! Had he lost his mind?  
  
His thoughts were soon broken as he was practically pounced from behind by Game, Set and Match.  
  
"Yay, Jack!" The vampire (who was Set, by Jack's best guess from what Zayne had told him of Halloween night,) said as she hugged him tightly and snuggled against his back.  
  
"How'd ya roar like that?" The werewolf asked, setting a hand on his shoulder and leaning towards his face. Jack was guessing, by his obsession with fire earlier, that this was Match.  
  
"That wasss amazzzing, Jack!" Said the snake woman, who Jack had dubbed Game by process of elimination, "How'sss it you got him to make you a Princcce?" She clung to his arm with her tentacles.  
  
Jack only stared forward blankly, "I have no clue." He replied to all questions. He shook slightly to get them off of him, and then slowly made his way up the steps in an almost dazed state. He soon disappeared into the Town Hall.  
  
Game, Set and Match exchanged a glance, a look of slight worry on their faces.  
  
"The master's not gonna like this." Match whispered.  
  
"I'll let you tell him." Game replied.  
  
"Rock, scissors, paper for it?" Match said.  
  
Game looked at him like he was a moron and wiggled a tentacle at him.  
  
"Oh, right." He said, slumping.  
  
"Let's get going!" Set interrupted, "We'll settle it back at the lair!"  
  
The three quickly disappeared into an alley and were gone in no time.  
  
  
  
Story © Gina Trujillo, Dec 26. 2002. Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton. 


	6. Thus it Began

Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne and Game, Set and Match, who are my characters.  
  
  
  
~Thus it Began~  
  
"I don't understand what you're thinking, Zayne!" Jack was pacing about the den in the middle of a rant that he'd been on for some time, "Just spitting it out like that in front of everyone when you haven't said a word about it before?! What was that?! I'm not cut out to be a Prince!"  
  
"How do you know you're not?" Zayne asked suddenly.  
  
Jack froze and didn't reply for a moment, "I just know! I'd make a horrible leader!"  
  
"I wouldn't be so sure of that. You've been doing a great job the past few weeks."  
  
"That's not leading!" Jack protested, "That's relaying messages!" He sighed and fell back into a chair, slumping low. "I just wish you'd ran it by me before you announced it to the town!"  
  
"Well, you hadn't proven yourself worthy until that moment." Zayne replied.  
  
"Proven myself worthy?" Jack almost laughed, his brow raised, "How?"  
  
"When you fought off the guards." Zayne replied.  
  
"I don't even remember that." Jack rubbed his skull with both hands, closing his eyes for the moment.  
  
"Do you remember jumping over the crowd?"  
  
"Barely."  
  
"What about that impressive roar you did?"  
  
"I roared?" Jack's eyes snapped open.  
  
Zayne grinned at him. "Yes, Jack, you roared, and it was the kind of roar that a skeleton should have to go through five to seven years of schooling to learn. Or how about when you caught Zero on the first try after I told you the trick to it? That was like magic, Jack! It just came naturally to you. The bottom line is, it all makes you a prime candidate for my heir."  
  
"Zayne," Jack said quietly, looking away from him, "I couldn't. Not me. You'll have a son or daughter someday who can take over the throne. Not me."  
  
Zayne laughed, although it was a sad sounding one, and he strode from the room. "It's not that simple, Jack." He called from the entryway, "The Hemlock line ends with me."  
  
"Oh, come now!" Jack called after him, "You'll find your queen soon enough!"  
  
The same sad laugh followed, "You're a funny one, Jack. It's a bit too late for me to be thinking about settling down and raising children. Everyone's nervous that I don't have an heir, and with good reason." He stepped back into the doorway, leaning on the frame, "I need someone to take over when I'm gone."  
  
"If you're already dead, where will you be 'gone' too?" Jack asked with great curiosity.  
  
Zayne flashed him a cheerless smile, "A good question, but it's not time for you to know the answer to that one, yet. Still, that right there is another prime example of your uniqueness. You've been here for, what? Three, four weeks? And already you are asking me questions that take the average person months, if not years, to think of asking after coming here! You've got a gift, Jack."  
  
"But I'm not cut out to be a King!" Jack insisted again, suddenly remembering where this conversation would be headed, again.  
  
Zayne sighed a bit and looked to the floor. He seemed to be thinking now. Before too long a time had passed, he looked back to Jack and said quietly, "Please, this is another favor I have to ask of you. Act as my heir, at least for now. Take on the title of Prince, let me teach you the things that have been handed down through the Hemlock line for generations. If you're right, and I really do settle down and raise a family, then you can step down and let my true child take the throne. But if you're wrong -as I believe you are- then, at least, the knowledge gathered after so many millennia won't be lost when I am gone, and can live on in you."  
  
There was no real way he could argue with this any farther, and yet he didn't want to just accept it right off the bat. With a sigh, Jack rose from his seat. "I'm going to have to sleep on this one. Excuse me." He left the room in quite a hurry.  
  
Zayne watched him head down the hallway and towards the steps. Once he was gone, the Pumpkin King sighed to himself and slumped back in his chair. Zero whimpered and hovered up to his side, nudging his hand with his little glowing nose.  
  
"You, too? Huh, boy?" Zayne asked, patting the dog upon the head, "You picked up on flying right away. I saw you watching the other ghosts on Halloween night. Is that where you learned it, I wonder?"  
  
Upon getting attention, Zero was promptly up in Zayne's lap. The Pumpkin King smiled at this and continued to pet the dog, getting lost in his own thoughts, and wondering what Jack would decide.  
  
~*~  
  
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Halloween Town, there was a graveyard that seemed to stretch for miles and miles. Set in the middle of this was a strange hill that had a sort of curled over look to it. Under this hill was where a meeting was about to start.  
  
Set was perched atop a statue of a screaming person, her feet resting upon one hear-by that was the likeness of a horse's head. Match was crouched down at the foot of these, using a stick to poke at a small campfire he'd made for no apparent reason other than to play with the flames.  
  
Game slowly made her way towards this spot, slithering with great care so that she wouldn't become tangled in the many throne bushes and brambles that grew about this area.  
  
"So," Set said with a vicious grin upon her face, "How'd it go?"  
  
Game smiled in reply, "He was happy!"  
  
"What?!" Set and Match both asked at the same time.  
  
"Listen, here's what he said!" Game coiled herself between the statues, "We all know that Zayne is very powerful, right?"  
  
The other two nodded.  
  
"And why is it we couldn't believe that Jack had managed to do away with him?"  
  
There was no reply.  
  
"C'mon, work with me, here!" Game said. (She was very true to her name.)  
  
"Um. Because Zayne is too powerful?" Match suggested.  
  
"And?" Game coaxed him on.  
  
"And, uh." Match seemed to be thinking very hard.  
  
"You said it to Jack in the alley." Game told him.  
  
Match looked more puzzled, and Set was rubbing her chin in thought now.  
  
"I," Match paused for a long time, "Give up."  
  
Game growled under her breath, "Jack is a scrawny little guy! Remember?!"  
  
"Well, he's pretty tall, actually." Set commented.  
  
"That's not the point!" Game snapped, "The point is, he's a skinny bag of bones who's totally clueless! So, imagine what life'll be like if he takes over rule of Halloween Town!"  
  
Something clicked in both Set and Match's brains. A grin spread over each of their faces and they laughed mischievously.  
  
"He'll be a total push-over!" Set giggled, kicking her bare feet up in the air.  
  
"Yeah!" Match agreed, "We just give 'im a bottle of vodka and it'll be a snap!" He broke his poking stick in emphasize the word.  
  
"Now, all we gotta do is wait!" Game said.  
  
Set and Match seemed to slump over hearing this.  
  
"Don't worry!" Game added, "The master also told me that we're not gonna slack off just because we see an opening in the future! If we do, then Zayne might suspect somethin's up, and we'll get rusty! So we carry on, business as usual. Who knows, we might get lucky before then, too!"  
  
Set and Match quickly perked up again.  
  
"Now listen up!" Game started to draw away in the dirt with the tip of he long tail, "I've got some new plan you're just gonna love to death!"  
  
The three stayed there, cackling as they made their plots and schemes until long after sunrise.  
  
  
  
Story © Gina Trujillo, Jan. 12, 2003. Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton.  
  
Wanna see what Game, Set and Match look like? Go here and find out! http://www.side7.com/cgi-bin/S7SDB/DisplayImg.pl?INO=238613 


	7. Unexpected Chase

Ack! Shame on me! I thought I already uploaded this one! Er, here it is..  
  
Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne and Game, Set and Match, who are my characters.  
~ Unexpected Chase ~  
  
Just after noon, Jack pulled himself from his couch bed. The world outside the window had a radiant golden hue to it in the sunlight, and the man couldn't help but fling the windows open and admire it as he pulled on his clothing and pondered the course of the day. He suddenly remembered the question he had been sleeping on.  
  
Becoming a prince was a responsibility that he wasn't sure he could handle. Being a messenger for a King was a world different from being his heir.  
  
Absently, he took a spare string for his tunic. He reached back behind his head to gather his hair back...  
  
He froze and blinked in confusion, then ran a hand over his bare skull. What had possessed him to do that? He knew fully well that he had no hair! Vampires and witches and other such creatures had hair, but not skeletons!  
  
He set the string down again and seated himself on the thick windowsill. These random, unexplainable acts and things he would remember how and then gave him a very uneasy feeling. He tapped a finger upon his knee nervously and tried to divert his thoughts back to the question he had to give Zayne an answer too. If not today, then soon.  
  
Before much more thought could be given to this, he heard a loud 'THUNK' sound from somewhere outside. This was followed by another sound, which seemed to be on the wall this time. Jack leaned out the window only to be hit squarely in the head by a stone. He jerked back in surprised pain as another rock flew past him and though the open window and bounced off the ceiling. Evil sounding laughter came from the street below.  
  
Jack dared another glance out the window. Down below, standing up on the wall that surrounded the Pumpkin King's home, were three familiar people: Game, Set and Match. Each held a sling and a large bag of smooth stones was set on the wall between them. All three were smiling up at him.  
  
"Hi, Jack!" Set called, waving her leather sling in the air to get his attention, which her well-aimed stone had already done a moment before.  
  
"How isss our princcce thisss day?" Game asked, loading another rock into her sling.  
  
Match was already spinning his sling once more, ready to let another stone fly.  
  
"What is the meaning of this?" Jack demanded, then he quickly ducked back as Match's stone came flying up and bounced off the wall above the window. There came approving laughter from his female companions. Jack leaned out the window again, shaking a fist at them in threat, "If you break a window, I'm making you repair it!"  
  
This only caused them to laugh more and an onslaught of stones was sent flying towards his tower. Growling, Jack pulled back from the window and bolted down the stairs. He ran into Zayne -almost literally- at the bottom of the steps.  
  
The Pumpkin King was surprised by Jack's haste, "What's going on?"  
  
"I'll be right back." Was the only reply that Jack gave as he darted out the door, ready to give the trio a piece of his mind.  
  
Upon seeing the skeleton some out the front door, Set gave a squeak of surprise and hopped backward off the wall, hiding from him. Match flashed a toothy grin, although it was a bit nervous. Game, on the other hand, wasted no time in letting a stone loose from her sling. Jack quickly sidestepped, and the rock hit hard against the door behind him. Game sent more stones after him, as many as she could before deciding he was close enough to cause her bodily harm. She then followed the lead of her cohorts and sprang back off the wall. The three taunted Jack from the other side in a childish manner.  
  
While Jack's better judgement told him to simply ignore it, he was in no mood to listen to good reason, even if it was his own. Before the trio could react, he sprang up onto the wall and crouched there, glaring at them. Set jumped back and gasped in surprise, and the other two looked fairly shocked.  
  
Zayne watched everything from the doorway, chuckling under his breath as Jack chased the trio off down the street and into an alley. Jack returned a short time later, lightly dusting and readjusting his tunic.  
  
"They're a nuisance, aren't they?" Zayne asked.  
  
Jack sighed, "They almost broke the tower window." He explained.  
  
"Ah. Yes, they'll do that on occasion."  
  
Jack was about to speak again, when another stone made contact with the back of his skull. He looked back to see that Set had managed to launch a stone over the gates. She stood on the other side of the street, her parasol over her shoulder and sling still in hand as she wiggling her fingers at him in a girlish wave.  
  
Jack looked to Zayne with annoyance in his face.  
  
Zayne could only smile in response, "I think she likes you." He said teasingly.  
  
Another stone hit Jack, this time in the shoulder. "What does she do to those she hates?" He grumbled, half-glancing at her.  
  
"Far worse than throw rocks, I'm afraid." Zayne replied, serious for the moment. He then smiled again and whispered, "Go on. Give 'em a good scare!"  
  
"How?" Jack asked, and a rock found the back of his neck this time. He winced and held the point of contact.  
  
"Trust your instincts." Zayne replied.  
  
Jack cranked his neck to the side to pop it back in place, rolled his shoulders, and then sprang back up to the wall. Curious to see if he could really pull it off, Jack tried a roar. It wasn't as impressive as the one he'd done in front of Town Hall the day before, but it was still enough to make Set gasp and step back in fear. This made Jack smirk, and he leapt from the wall and darted for her, having not much clue as to what he was going to do if he actually caught her. Luckily, he didn't have to find out, as she quickly darted into the alley and ran off, Game and Match following her lead.  
  
Zayne chuckled and called after Jack, "Don't let them lead you out of town!" He hoped the skeleton had heard him. As soon as Jack was gone from his sight, the smile faded away. The Pumpkin King inwardly hoped that the trio wouldn't get the best of his friend.  
  
For hours, Jack chased Game, Set and Match about Halloween Town. He lost them now and then, always finding at least one before too long. They would split up, try to circle back and sneak up on him, sometimes hide, or run together down the streets and try to use townspeople as living shields and obstacles. Once others were involved, Jack would try to calm a bit so that no one else would get hurt, but in the empty places, he went all out. He was discovering that he felt stronger in many ways, although what he was comparing his strength to, he wasn't sure. He let out a few roars, even some screeches of inhuman nature, especially when he'd manage to sneak up on then when they were resting a moment. It seemed that it was becoming a game to all of them, although it was questionable with -of all people- Game. While she appeared to be enjoying the chase for the most part, there were moments where it looked as if she was going to take things on a personal level.  
  
Jack had lost them all once again and was stalking though an alley. He found Set, by herself, hiding among rotting crates and wooden boxes. She hadn't noticed him, as his stealth had greatly improved. Quick as a flash, he leapt onto the top of the boxes and growled at her like some wild animal. Startled, the vampire jumped to her feet and stumbled back. She held out her closed parasol like a sword, "On guard!" She said jokingly.  
  
Jack smiled a bit sheepishly, "You sword fight?" He asked.  
  
Set gave him a vampire smile, "You don't?" She asked.  
  
Jack gave no answer, but sprang off the crates and stood near her.  
  
Set glanced over her shoulder at the dead end behind her, then looked back to Jack. She opened her parasol and placed it upon her shoulder, spinning it slightly. "Well, looks like you caught me this time, Jack. I'm cornered." She said, slowly stepping towards him. "So... now what will you do with me?"  
  
Jack shrugged slightly and took a step back, trying to be wary of all the members of this trio, even though he'd seen noting very threatening about them thus far. Zayne had given him enough warning, however, and so he tried to be on his guard.  
  
Set walked right up to him, placing a slender hand on the back of his neck. Her black finger nails lightly caressed him as she spoke in a quiet tone, "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?"  
  
Jack was unsure of how to reply to this. A bit nervously, he put an arm about her and, for lack of anything better coming to mind he traced an "S" upon he back and said loudly, "Tag! You're it!"  
  
Set blinked in total confusion as Jack darted out of the alley and announced to her cohorts on the way out that she as now 'it.' A small smile crept across her face and she giggled in a very childish way, as it had been a very long time since she'd last played tag. Closing her parasol, she ran from the alley in pursuit of the other three, and pondered if their trio was about to acquire another member..  
  
~  
  
(Author's note: Tracing an "S" on someone's back was the old way of playing tag. I don't know what time line it's from, exactly, but it was the way of playing tag long before the version we know today, of simply touching the person.)  
  
~ Story © Gina Trujillo, Feb. 24, 2003. Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton. 


	8. The Odd and Unexpected

Ack! It's been over a year! Shame on me! I need to work on this story more! No wonder people were e-mailing me about it..... bad me!  
  
Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne and Game, Set and Match, who are my characters.  
  
~ The Odd and Unexpected ~  
  
"I'm not sure you understand, Mayor. It is possible to fix the problems before Halloween comes. You're just going to have to be patient." Jack tried to reason.  
  
All day long, the Mayor had been very rapidly switching between his happy and distressed faces. Getting used to this or not, Jack was becoming very dizzy from it and was currently trying to keep the Mayor in a happy mood so as to not cause farther head spinning. However, he was starting to think that perhaps it would be easier to just make the Mayor terminally angry and be done with it.  
  
A few more weeks had passed, and while Zayne was just about ready to face the world again, he seemed to be enjoying his little vacation. Perhaps too much, Jack was thinking. The skeletal man didn't complain openly, however. In fact, he didn't mind much, unless he had to deal with the Mayor in excess, which was more and more common all the time.  
  
"Are you sure we can straighten this out?" The Mayor asked, his pasty white face gazing up at Jack with a skeptic look upon it.  
  
"Of course, of course!" Jack replied in as happy of a tone as he could fake at the moment. "Just leave it to me!"  
  
For all it was worth, Jack wasn't even sure what they were worrying about now. However, it did the trick, and the Mayor's head spun about to the friendly face. Regrettably, it stayed in this state for a total of three seconds, if even. A smooth, flat stone came sailing though the air, making contact with the Mayor's nose. The pudgy man fell to the ground and rolled in agony.  
  
Jack shot an angry glance over his shoulder, only to be pummeled with two well-aimed stones to the shoulders. He winced sharply, almost falling to his knees.  
  
The Mayor began to flail wildly, much in the manner of a turtle that's been put on its back. "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" He screamed over and over.  
  
Jack sighed and whimpered, rubbing his forehead. He straightened his back then, and turned to face the direction in which the stones had come. This may have been a mistake, as he promptly took three simultaneous blows to the face that sent him sprawling on his back beside the Mayor.  
  
Wicked laughter came from not far off. Jack knew whom it belonged to, for it was the same sound that woke him up outside his window at least twice a week, if not more.  
  
The Mayor continued to flail, but his screaming had died away from words to more of a constant "AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" kind of sound. Slowly, Jack pulled himself to a sitting position and glared angrily at the trio standing on the opposite side of the town-square.  
  
"What have I told you about interrupting me while I'm working?" Jack growled at them.  
  
"You're no fun, Jack." Set replied, casually swinging an empty sling in her hand.  
  
"And you're being a nuisance!" He stood then and carefully pulled the shrieking Mayor to his feet, dusting him a bit and assuring him that it wasn't a serious attack. The flabbergasted Mayor didn't believe him, especially when Game landed another stone on the stout man's face and sent him back to the ground.  
  
Game laughed, pleased with herself, as she reloaded the sling. Jack, however, was anything but amused, and the laughter didn't help the snake woman's cause any.  
  
Slowly the skeleton turned to look at the snake woman, then he moved as quick as lightning, snatching up a large rock from the ground and letting it fly. Game had time to gasp before it made contact with her head. She swayed and fell to the ground between her shocked cohorts.  
  
Jack took a step back. He hadn't expected to actually hit her! It was meant as a mock attack, but his anger must have taken over his intentions.  
  
"Uh..... Game?" Match asked weakly.  
  
"Are, uh..... you okay?" Set added as she nudged Game with her foot.  
  
The snake woman didn't move at first. There was a long and tense silence before she groaned and sat herself up. A huge red welt was on her forehead, and this was something she was none too happy about. Hissing fiercely, Game's body started to shift, becoming larger. Her muscles all bulged two fold from before. Jack stumbled back a bit more at the shock of this.  
  
"You will pay for that, you miserable little-" Game's words fell short as a scream of pure terror came over the air. All eyes turned to the sound in time to see a ragged looking zombie man come running though the square, screaming bloody murder at the top of his voice. He didn't seem to notice anyone was there at all and ran on down the street. As everyone's gaze followed him, they all saw that a large knife was still lodged in his back. He didn't get far before he ran smack into a wall and then collapsed on the sidewalk.  
  
There was a moment's pause as everyone wondered what this meant and what to do about it. Jack was the first to offer an answer. Still baffled by the man's sudden appearance, he strode down the street to the place the zombie had fallen. There he knelt beside him and gave him a gentile shake to awaken him.  
  
"Are you alright?" Jack asked weakly, not knowing what else to ask.  
  
The man's milky eyes blinked open slowly, taking their time focusing. Once they'd done so, he gasped and recoiled at the sight of Jack.  
  
"It's alright." Jack told him. "I'm not going to hurt-"  
  
"La Muerte!" The man shrieked, scrambling away, "La Muerte!"  
  
Jack pulled back. He didn't know what the man was talking about, but he didn't much like the sound of it.  
  
Before Jack could think much farther into what he was going to do about this man, two more screams came over the air. Jack stood and looked sharply down the street to see two more men running in the same manner, and screaming very loudly. They, too, seemed to have been attacked from behind. The man Jack stood beside quickly got to his feet and ran with the others, shrieking still, "La Muerte! La Muerte!"  
  
Guessing this situation may be something that was over his head, Jack turned on his heels and headed back to Zayne's house. Perhaps he knew what was going on.  
  
Story © Gina Trujillo, March. 11, 2004.  
Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton. 


	9. Slicing Words

Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne and Game, Set and Match, who are my characters.  
  
~ Slicing Words ~  
  
Jack nervously paced the floor of the library, Zero close at his heels. Both skeleton and ghost dog paused by the window and looked down at the streets below. The number of zombies had increased dramatically throughout the day. Once night had fallen, they were prowling the streets, battling each other fiercely. A war was suddenly raging right in the midst of Halloween Town and no one seemed to understand why.  
  
Except, perhaps, Zayne.....  
  
He was unavailable.  
  
Zayne's reaction to being told about the screaming zombies wasn't what Jack had expected. Given, he didn't know what to expect. Still, the alarm Zayne was struck with was far from anything he had anticipated.  
  
"Jack, I need you to send out a message for everyone in Halloween Town to stay inside and lock the doors! When everyone is safe, then you get yourself back here as quickly as you can! Let no one inside!" He disappeared into his room for a moment, returning shortly with a broadsword strapped to his back and twin blades at his sides, "If I do not return by sunrise, assume the worst." Before Jack could react to this, Zayne was out the door and gone.  
  
That was many hours before. Now the first gray light of dawn was creeping over the horizon, and there was still no sign of Zayne.  
  
"What if he doesn't come back, Zero?" Jack asked, seating himself on the windowsill. Zero was immediately in his lap, whimpering and sympathizing with the situation.  
  
What if Zayne didn't return? Jack knew he was a far cry from ready to take over as the King of Halloween. He paused after this thought, suddenly recalling that he'd never actually given Zayne an answer about being his heir. The fact sent a strange pang of guilt though his body and Jack's shoulders slumped. He sat and quietly petted Zero.  
  
Suddenly, the sound of the front door closing echoed up the stairwell. Jack sprang to his feet, quickly following Zero downstairs.  
  
Leaning against the wall in the entryway was Zayne. He looked exhausted, but otherwise seemed alright. He lifted his gaze to Jack and gave him a small smile.  
  
"Where did you go?" Jack asked with concern.  
  
"Just taking care of some business." Zayne replied. "I see you got everyone inside."  
  
Jack nodded, "What's going on, Zayne?"  
  
The Pumpkin King laughed emptily, "We're being invaded."  
  
"Invaded?! By who? Why?"  
  
"So many questions." Zayne chuckled as he started towards Jack.  
  
"I'd like to know." Jack stated bluntly.  
  
"It's complicated."  
  
"I'm willing to understand."  
  
"That's what worries me." Zayne went to step past Jack on the way to his room. A skeletal arm shot across his path to stop him. Slowly the Pumpkin King turned his gaze to meet with the eyeless sockets staring back at him.  
  
"I think," Jack stated slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly, "that I..... have a right..... to know."  
  
Zayne narrowed his eyes in return. "You," he stated equally slow, "are not..... ready."  
  
"Not ready?!" Jack asked, far more defensively than Zayne thought he would.  
  
"Not yet." Zayne replied, then pushed Jack's arm aside. "I'm tired, and I'd imagine you are, as well. We need to chase those zombies out of town tomorrow, so get some sleep, Jack." The door to Zayne's bedroom was closed between them.  
  
"Not..... ready....." Jack stated quietly to himself, wondering why those words cut so deeply.  
  
Story © Gina Trujillo, March. 13, 2004.  
Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton. 


	10. Moonlight

Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne and Game, Set and Match, who are my characters.  
  
~ Moonlight ~  
  
The weeks that followed were tense for everyone. Zayne managed to round up all battling zombies somehow and sent them outside the city limits. The huge rusted gates of Halloween Town were repaired and shut so that no combatants could enter. Still, a zombie would slip in here and there, so it was clear there was a gap somewhere. No one was able to find it, however.  
  
Regardless of the hazards threatening the town, it seemed the planning for next Halloween could not be put off for a single day. The Mayor insisted on speaking to either Zayne or Jack at least once every day, if not more. Neither one was very annoyed by this. It was a good way to get their mind off of the zombie infestation problem.  
  
One evening, Jack sat in the den, pouring over pages of notes and ideas for the celebration that was to come before the year's end. Zayne entered quietly, his weapons all in tow. Jack half glanced up, then scornfully returned to his work.  
  
"I'll be-"  
  
Jack interrupted him, "Back before sunrise. I know." He stated bitterly.  
  
Zayne paused, then turned and left without a word of argument towards being snapped at.  
  
Zayne had been disappearing an average of twice every week, leaving Jack in charge for a while. The skeleton wouldn't have complained except in the fact that he knew the King was keeping something from him. From everyone, for that matter. Nobody had the foggiest as to where Zayne went, why he would take weaponry with him, nor why he would refuse to speak of it with anyone.  
  
Jack waited only a short time after the front door had shut before he leaned back in his chair and pondered one final time a plan he'd been toying with. Ultimately, he stood, told Zero to watch the house, and left.  
  
~  
  
A cool breeze sent dry leafs dancing along the streets of Halloween Town. Zayne moved quickly down the sidewalks, oblivious to the shadow tailing him. His mind was on the mission ahead, and it was a grim one. Silently he made his way to the tall stone wall that protected his town. A quick and almost effortless looking leap sent him flipping over and beyond it. He was surprisingly nimble for a scarecrow..... At least, that was Jack's thoughts upon witnessing this.  
  
The skeleton's efforts to get over the wall were much less graceful. Jumping, clinging onto it and hoisting himself over made him feel very clumsy. He ultimately slipped from the top, tumbling into a thicket of thorns, which didn't help his cause in any way, shape, or form.  
  
Zayne turned sharply upon hearing the sound. He watched the area around him closely, blade half-drawn from its sheath. Nothing moved at first. Then a hoard of zombies came running over the hills, screaming like the mad men they were. Zayne sighed and finally slipped his blade back into the sheath, continuing on his way.  
  
Jack waited another moment and watched from the place he'd fallen as Zayne left. Once he was sure he wouldn't be heard, the skeleton pulled himself out from the thorn bushes and followed the King with the cover of shadows.  
  
Zayne was easy to trail in the dark, being that his candlelight glowed so brightly. There were few times that Jack almost lost him in the forest, and he always found him a few moments later. Even when a thick fog started rolling in, Jack could see Zayne's light up ahead.  
  
The trees thinned and Jack found himself following Zayne into a graveyard that must have spanned acres upon acres of land. His jaw went slack upon seeing this, and a shiver ran down his spine at the thought of how many bodies must lie resting there. Suddenly he remembered he was supposed to be hiding. He ducked behind a tree and carefully peaked about it to see what was happening.  
  
Zayne had paused by a tomb. He glanced back and forth, as if feeling that someone was there. Jack was confident that he hadn't been seen, however, and watched on.  
  
Passing his twig hands over the tomb's cover, Zayne hesitated as he seemed to ponder something. Finally, he threw the stone case back to reveal a staircase descending into darkness. The Pumpkin King entered and shut the doors behind himself.  
  
Jack watched this happen, then quietly crept up on the tomb. He examined the stone, which held no markings and no indication of who was supposed to lie within. Carefully, Jack lifted the cover, only to gaze into an empty stone box, no more than four feet deep. Confused, he replaced the lid and rubbed his jaw in thought for a moment.  
  
If there was one thing he was catching onto in Halloween Town, it was that nothing was as it seemed a face value. He thought about this a moment longer, and decided that, perhaps, he had opened the tomb expecting to find what one normally finds in a tomb.....  
  
With this in mind, Jack set his hands upon the stone and thought of the staircase he'd seen a moment before. Once again, he slid the lid back. This time, he found the staircase that he had been seeking. Rather proud of himself, Jack quickly bounded down the stairs after the Pumpkin King.  
  
Jack found himself within a complex array of underground tunnels and stairways. The walls seemed to glow lightly with a dim blue light that resided someplace deep within the stones. The ceiling was rather low, and Jack had to stoop slightly in places. Catching a glimpse of candlelight disappearing up a staircase, Jack followed.  
  
The stairway ended at a thin pine door set in the ceiling. Jack pushed it open carefully and found himself exiting the tunnels through a simple pine coffin. Still proud of himself for figuring out the trick, and also deeply fascinated by it at the same time, he'd dropped his guard.....  
  
Something grabbed Jack aggressively by the back of the neck, pulling him backwards. He had time to make a surprised sound, but then a hand muffled his words and he was dragged violently behind a pile of large boulders.  
  
"Blast it, Jack!" Zayne's voice hissed, "What where you thinking?!"  
  
There was a pause as Jack waited for Zayne to remove his hand from over his mouth so he could reply. When this did not happen, Jack reached up and pushed the hand away.  
  
"I wanted to know what you're doing." Jack whispered back.  
  
"If it was any of your business, I would have told you!" Zayne snapped, trying to keep his voice down, "Now I don't know how you followed me, but I pray you know your way back!" He gave Jack a strong push towards the open coffin and the stairs that lead down from it.  
  
"Let me help!" Jack tried to protest, catching himself before he took a dive down the stairs, "Whatever it is, I want to help you!"  
  
"You can't!" Zayne insisted, "Go home!"  
  
"Not until you at least tell me who –or what- it is you're fighting out here!"  
  
"You're not ready to know that yet." Zayne replied, his tone grim, "Now go h-"  
  
Jack interrupted, stung again by the words 'not ready.' "I want to help!"  
  
"You don't know how!" Zayne snapped back at him quickly.  
  
Jack froze, staring at Zayne as if the man had just slapped him. Bitterly, he turned and stormed back down the stairs, disappearing into the darkness below.  
  
Zayne hesitated, then shut the coffin lid. "It's for your own good." He whispered to a man who couldn't hear him, "Try to understand that."  
  
~  
  
In the graveyard outside of Halloween Town, the lid to a tomb came flying open and Jack sprang from it. He slammed it shut again in his rage. A growl escaped from between clinched teeth as he stormed off through the graveyard. He didn't really know where he was going, but he also didn't really care. Growling, cursing, slashing at the air, he made his way between grave markers and past thorn bushes.  
  
Why was he so angry? Jack asked mentally himself this question and found no answer that suited him. What was it that Zayne's words had stung so badly? He didn't know why. But they had, and now he wanted nothing more than to kill something, or at least cause some major damage to someone. No one in particular, really.  
  
Jack looked up, suddenly seeing something ahead that made him stop in his tracks. Silhouetted against the moon was a hill. A special sort of hill, that one has a hard time describing. It seemed to have..... well, it had a strange curl to it. At any rate, he'd never seen anything like it before.  
  
Before he knew it, Jack had made his way to the top of this hill. From there, he could see far and wide. He saw the acres of graveyard before him, and pumpkin patches at the edge of the forest. He could see the lights of Halloween Town. He knew they were likely looking for him there.  
  
Turning the opposite way, he could see a tower in the distance. It was tall and very menacing, slanted dramatically to the side as if it would topple at any moment. Jack was used to this sort of structure by now, and yet there was something very unsettling about this tower. He turned away from it, seated himself, and fixed his gaze upon the moon, as it seemed much more inviting.  
  
And there he sat for hours, until that captivating moon had disappeared to make way for sunlight.  
  
Story © Gina Trujillo, March. 13, 2004.  
Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton. 


	11. Sleep Deprivation in Halloween Town

I must say I'm very sorry for the lack of updates. Trust me, I'm trying, but I'm at the point where I have so many ideas but no clue where the story is really going. It could take a while, but I hope I'll get over the block on this one soon.....

A HUGE THANKS to everyone who has stayed around this long in spite of my lack of updates.... And again, I'm very sorry!

Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne and Game, Set and Match, who are my characters.

Sleep Deprived in Halloween Town

After having been awake for more than 24 hours straight, Halloween Town looked much different to Jack. The place was strange enough when one was in a normal mindset, but being sleep deprived made it three times worse!

Jack made his way down twisted streets. While he'd felt the need to return home, he'd barely managed to convince himself to go back within the walls of Halloween Town. Heading back to Hemlock Manor was a different matter altogether. Jack wasn't sure why, and the lack of sleep didn't help him to reason it out much, but he was extremely angry with Zayne for what he'd done and said. He imagined that Zayne was equally angry with him for following, but didn't much care.

The skeleton found himself wondering many things about the world he was in. Why was it that the sunlight held such a stunning golden hue to it? He wasn't sure what he was comparing it to, but he felt that it was unusual in some way. Why was it that everything looked so beautiful to him at night? Why were all the people so different? What was it that made them each look the way they did? Had all of them been alive once? If so, what had they looked like? What had he looked like, for that matter? And why were all of the buildings so odd? What was it that kept them from falling over? Why was it that..... Wait, was that building shaped like a cat?

Jack squinted up at a building that stood a ways off, wondering what had possessed someone to make it look such as it did. As he was thinking about this, a familiar voice suddenly spoke up.

"Jack! Where have you been?!"

"Hum?" Jack asked, turning about to see the Mayor scurrying towards him, his worried face presiding for the moment. "Oh." Jack stammered, "I was..... well, I was off looking about. Had to, uh..... had to clear my thoughts."

"Zayne has everyone looking for you!" The Mayor told him.

"Does he?" Jack asked in a bitter tone, "Well, you can just tell him I'm back now."

The Mayor's head spun about to show his cheerful face. Jack jumped slightly at this, suddenly seeing this face in a whole new light. The way his eyes were miss-matched, the ridiculously huge smile, the shape of his nose..... was that even a nose?! Jack snorted and held back laughter.

Whatever it was the Mayor was going to say was gone now. "Er, did I miss something?" He asked in his overly chipper way.

"Er, uhm, no." Jack snorted again, trying to contain himself. Truth be known, he'd been trying to keep from laughing at the Mayor's double face for some time now. Perhaps his defenses were down due to lack of sleep. Whatever the reason, he was finding it to be very difficult to stay serious at the time being.

The Mayor's face snapped back to the pale side and he eyed Jack a bit suspiciously, "Then what are you laughing at?"

"Uh, nothing!" Jack replied, struggling in vain to push back a smile.

Naturally, the little man didn't believe this for a moment and he gave Jack an even more skeptic look. Jack stared at this face now, with its bulging eyes and stressed mouth.....

He could no longer contain himself. A small chuckle escaped before Jack placed a hand over his own mouth.

The smiling face returned to the Mayor, "Oh, come now! What is it you're laughing about, Jack?" He asked.

He tried to reply 'nothing' again, but only more laugher came out.

The Mayor persisted, "Well? What is it? Let me in on the joke!"

Jack laughed harder.

Becoming frustrated, the Mayor's head spun again to his distressed face. "What is it?" He demanded to know in a whiney tone.

Jack held his ribs and laughed. He found that his own laughter had changed. It was a high pitched sound that contrasted greatly with his voice, and yet seemed very fitting for a skeleton. This fact just made him laugh harder until his knees almost buckled.

"Well?!" The Mayor demanded.

"Don't," Jack broke into laughter again before catching himself, "Don't ask! I don't knooooow!"

The Mayor took a few steps back, eyeing Jack sidelong. The skeleton calmed his laughter to a few chuckles, but quickly broke into more laughing as the Mayor suddenly asked him, "Have you been drinking again?"

Before Jack could stop laughing to answer, the Mayor rolled his eyes and waddled away.

"You gotta warped sense of humor, Jack." A gruff voice said suddenly. Match strode out from an alleyway, a bit of a smirk on his wolfish features.

Jack nodded in agreement, still trying to catch his breath..... or whatever it may have been. At any rate, once he was able to speak again, he asked Match, "Where are your partners in crime?"

"Oh, Game and Set? Eh, I donno. They ditched me. Girl talk er sumthin'." Match replied, wrinkling his nose, "Where you been all night?"

"Oh, I don't know." Jack replied, "It was just outside a huge graveyard."

"Yeah, I know the place. It's like my back yard!" He grinned, "Ya like it?"

Jack shuttered slightly, "Not really. I don't like graveyards."

Match whistled low, "Wow, you're in the wrong place."

"Maybe I am." There was a pause, "Match..... did you..... did you come down the road?"

"Oh, _the_ road....." Match's eyes darted about quickly, and he suddenly sounded the smartest that Jack had ever heard him sound, "No. No, I didn't. I don't know what's down that way, either."

"Thought I'd ask." Jack said. He paused again, "I..... you know, I came down that road, and-"

Match held up one of his huge paws very quickly, "Don't." He warned quietly, "Don't talk about it. 'Specially not in front of the girls!"

Before Jack could question, he noticed Match's gaze shift to behind him. The skeleton looked over his shoulder to see Zayne walking towards them.

"I better go." Match said, and was gone before Jack could react.

Zayne nodded after the werewolf, "So you were with the trio last night?"

"No." Jack replied.

"The Mayor tells me you're drunk again."

"No." Jack said again.

There was a silent pause as each waited for the other to speak. It was Zayne who finally did so.

"Well? You didn't come back. Where did you go last night?"

Jack crossed his arms and replied calmly, "If it was any of your business, I would have told you."

Zayne almost winced at having his own words thrown back at him. His eyes narrowed. "Touché, Jack."

There was silence again.

"Zero missed you." Zayne finally stated.

Jack only nodded.

The Pumpkin King sighed, "Oh, for the love of- Jack, I'm sorry. Alright? It was for your own good that I sent you back. Try to understand that!"

"It's hard to understand anything here, Zayne." Jack replied.

"That's alright. It's sort of the point."

"The point?"

"Well, yes..... and no. Uhm, let me explain.... Uh.... Never mind." Zayne shook his head, "Let's go home."

Jack shrugged and stepped up beside Zayne. He smiled a bit, "You didn't sleep, either, huh?"

Zayne simply shook his head.

Story © Gina Trujillo, October 21, 2004.

Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton.


	12. Mysteries

_I know it's been a while. (Gah, it's always been a while.) To tell the truth, I have the next few chapters of this story written up. They're in my notebook and I just have to type them out. That alone may or may not take me a while. Without further ado, I bring you the next chapter…_

_Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne and Game, Set and Match, who are my characters._

Mysteries

Night after night, the same thing. The same sounds, the same battle, the same tension. The zombies were clearly divided into two armies, and their war raged through the streets of Halloween Town. Zayne left every sunset, weapons secured and with a determination much admirable.

Yet Jack knew not what he did out in that world. It was becoming a frustration, even more so than before, as all of Zayne's duties in the planning of Halloween were once again laid upon Jack's shoulders. While the skeleton did his best to carry the burden, he was untrained and new to the ways of the land he was living in.

Every chance he got, the Mayor pressed him for answers as to the whereabouts and plans of the Pumpkin King. Jack told him each time that he did not know what Zayne was doing, but that it was surely important. Still, meetings with the Mayor were few and far between these days. The order was still out for all to remain indoors when possible and to avoid any contact with the zombie hoards.

Jack was sitting within the den of the King's house, Zero contently in his lap. (Content only because he was asleep. The ghost dog could easily feel there were things amiss.)

It was a very loud _thunk_ sound that startled Jack from his thoughts and pulled Zero from sleep. Instantly wide awake, the dog charged for the front door, barking like mad.

The first sound had been that of someone running right into the door, and it was quickly followed by hurried knocking. "Jack, Jack! Let me in! Please!" The voice of Set begged frantically from outside.

Jack pulled the door open, only to have to promptly catch Set as she tumbled inside. Upon the steps behind her stood at least five zombies, thin hands reaching after her. All of them froze upon seeing Jack, and there was a moment of silence following. Then, all at once, the zombies began to scream, "La Muerta! La Muerta!" They scrambled over each other, back down the stairs and onto the street.

Set, while still partly collapsed in Jack's arms, gave the door a push with her foot. The aged hinges creaked and the latch rattled shut. Slowly, Jack's gaze shifted from the door to the face of Set. She smiled as sweetly as a vampire can, ivory fangs glinting. "Thank you, Jack." She cooed.

Jack cleared his throat and placed her back on her feet. "You're welcome."

Set started looking about the entryway, delicate hands folded behind her back. "So this is Hemlock Manor…"

Jack suddenly realized he wasn't entirely sure it was alright to have let he in. He fumbled with his words as he tried to find a way to fix the situation.

Set laughed, "Zayne has never liked me much." She started wandering towards the hallway. Seeing his cue, Zero quickly zipped over to her side, flitting about her feet playfully. Set smiled and knelt to pet the dog.

"Would you like me to walk you home?" Jack offered. "Make sure those zombies don't give you any trouble?"

Set seemed disappointed –even defeated- on her first reaction. However, he face lit up as she turned to face him fully. "You would do that for me?" She asked with glassy eyes.

Jack nodded. A moment later, he was prying Set's death grip of a hug from his ribs. (The fact he no longer needed to breathe didn't make it any less painful.)

"Why do the zombies leave you alone?" Set asked as she walked in lock-step with Jack through the streets.

Jack shrugged, as he really had no idea. "Luck, I guess."

"Luck? You're a regular luck child, Jack!" Set told him. Old gates screeched open to Set's touch. She paused as he noticed Jack hesitated. "What's wrong?"

Zayne's advice returned to him. The Pumpkin King had told him not to let the trio lute him out of Halloween Town. Still, he'd told Set he would walk her home, and being that he didn't know where 'home' was, he'd little choice but to follow. (Besides all that, Set was pouting at him.)

"Nothing. It's nothing." He finally said, motioning for her to continue.

The two made their way through pumpkin patches and across graveyards, walking for a bit of a ways. Jack made sure to look for landmarks so he could find his way back again. All the while, Set asked him questions.

"So where is it Zayne goes off to all the time?"

"I don't know, exactly." Jack told her, which was partly true.

"It's about the zombies, isn't it?" Set pressed him. As if on cue, a group of the undead warriors came from over the hill, immediately turning tail to run away upon seeing Jack.

"I'm not sure…" Jack replied absentmindedly to her question as he watched the creatures flee.

"I'm sure he must be trying to stop this onslaught." Set commented.

Jack shrugged distractedly, as his thoughts were still elsewhere. Set stopped walking, stepping into the skeleton's path. He pulled back sharply, not expecting this. A dainty hand played across his cheekbone as she looked at him with sympathy. "You wish to help him, don't you, Jack? You wan to but don't know how." Jack shifted nervously away from her touch, but to no avail, as she advanced upon him, sliding her arms about his waist. "I know you only want for this to be over. As we all do. I think I can help you, Jack!"

"How so?" Jack asked, still trying to push away without seeming rude. "Will you teach me to fight?"

Set blinked at him in surprise. Clearly this was not what she had in mind. "Me? Teach you to… Well, Jack, what's wrong with the way you fight now?"

"I _don't_ fight, Set." Came the reply.

Set lifted a brow at him. "Nonsense. I'll wader you could rip a man limb from limb! If need be." The last part she added upon seeing the doubt and disturbance in Jack's expression.

"I need to learn the sword." Jack told her. "If I could weald a sword, I could fight at Zayne's side!"

"Ah, so he does go to fight." Set grinned impishly. She spoke again before he could react. "Very well, Jack. If you still wish it after I tell you what I know, I will teach you. But first you much hear me out. I have been watching the zombies when I can. I know where they come from, Jack, and you may be able to stop them!"

Jack gripped her shoulders, "Where? Where do they come from?"

"From The Road."

Jack's grip tightened, then released and slid away. "I dare not return there. Zayne said-"

"Oh, Zayne said, Zayne said!" Set suddenly pushed away from him, turning her back on him. "Zayne says a lot of things. But if you want to help him, you may have to go against a few of the things he says!"

Jack reached out to her, but let his arm drop and sighed. There was silence for only a moment longer. Set turned back around to face him and slid into a fencing stance. "On guard." She said coldly. Jack followed her lead, and the rest of the night was spent on swords training.

_Story © Gina Trujillo, December 17, 2005._

_Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton._


	13. Returning

_Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne and Game, Set and Match, who are my characters._

Returning

A cold wind whipped past, carrying on it dried leafs and the scent of pumpkins. Jack stood still as a statue as he gazed off. He wasn't sure what had forced him to stop here, but he found his determination was dwindling quickly. He no longer was sure he wanted to press onward.

Over two weeks had passed since Set had started teaching him the ways of the sword, and nearly every night since had been spent in her company. He was learning quickly, but knew there wasn't enough time for him to become a swordsman and help Zayne fight. Every sunrise, the Pumpkin King would return more exhausted and battle-worn than the time before. It was getting to the point where Zayne hardly spoke anymore, always heading right to his room to rest. And every evening when Zayne would leave, Jack found himself fearing it would be the last he would see of his friend.

This fear is what pushed him to act. Clearly following Zayne wasn't going to work, being that it had failed so horribly the time before. So Jack did the one thing he could think to do; he took Set's advice. He headed for The Road.

He now stood in the middle of the path, frozen for reasons he couldn't place at first. His gaze searched about himself in thought and he knew what it was. This was the exact spot he'd met Zayne. That seemed like it had been years ago. He shook his head. One more step and he would be farther from Halloween Town than he could ever remember being. Jack straightened his tunic, picked up his head and pressed on.

The winding road was very strange, as it seemed to pass by the same places over and over again. Withered trees reached thorny branches down to grab at any who drifted too closely to the edges. Jack-o-Lanterns leered up from their patches, sneering at the skeleton as he passed. Mysterious eyes gazed at him from shadowed places, and the sound of wings fluttered about in the darkness overhead. Yet all of these qualities that Jack had become so accustomed to slowly died out the farther he walked. The color faded from everything, becoming dull shades of gray. A thick fog started to roll in, and it got to the point where the skeleton was lucky to see ten steps ahead of himself. There was an eerie silence that set in and chills ran through Jack's bones. He forced himself to press on, quickening his pace.

No bats or birds flew overhead. No wolves howled in the distance. The trees and pumpkin patches gave way to endless fields of grayed grasses and withered grain, divided here and there by a rotting fence or dry ditch. The Road seemed to go on forever, and Jack walked for what felt like hours. Yet the moon never moved, nor did the dawn seem to draw any nearer.

Jack heard something. There had been little more than his own footfalls in the way of sound for hours, so even the soft noise he suddenly heard made him jump. It was humming; a dark tune which was familiar. The sound drew louder with every step and, eventually, words chimed in.

"Making Mischief,

Making Mischief,

Is no crime.

It's lots of fun

So please don't hate,

If there's a prank,

It's just your fate.

Making Mischief,

Making Mischief!"

Jack had heard this song before, sung by children in town. The voice that sang it now was hard to place. It wasn't a child, nor was it an adult, not that of a woman, but equally not that of a man. And it echoed in a very hollow sounding way. The words gave way again to humming again. Through the mist ahead, Jack could see a faint glow like a Jack-o-Lantern. He drew a bit closer and then froze in his tracks.

The Road lead up a bit of an incline where a bridge stretched over a large ditch. The mist that drifted over the fields was bubbling out of this ditch, rolling out over the sides and flowing across the ground.

Near to this bridge was a person, the source of the humming and singing. A scarecrow, much like Zayne. Clothing tattered and clinging to its straw body in decaying threads. Its pumpkin head swayed idly back and forth, glowing eyes transfixed on the ground. This person was not actually standing beside the bridge, but in fact, they were hanging there. They had been tied to a post by an array of ropes, arms outstretched. Over time, these ropes had shifted and some of them loosened, hanging down towards the ground. Yet there were still enough of them in place to do the job of holding their captive fast. The right arm of the scarecrow hung limply at the elbow, broken fragments of wood sticking through the shirtsleeve. The scarecrow continued to hum and watch the ground for some time, moving its legs against loosened bounds as if to walk, in spite of the fact that it hung a few feet off the ground and could not get down. It looked as if this person had been there for a very long time.

Clearly this was all some form of punishment, and part of Jack wanted to bolt forward and help the poor soul. Yet he was still frozen in place, just staring. Try as he might to move, either forward or back, he found that he could not.

Suddenly, the scarecrow stopped moving and fell silent in mid-hum. The gaze of the creature slowly lifted, slit eyes meeting with Jack. A crooked smile was already on its face, as if it had been expecting to see him. Its inner flame flickered wildly. Jack wanted nothing more than to bolt at that moment, and yet something held him there. His body would not obey.

"Why are you here?" The scarecrow asked in a sly tone, as if he already knew the answer to said question.

Jack couldn't find his voice.

The scarecrow grinned on in the most untrustworthy of ways. "Come closer." It whispered darkly in the sort of tone that makes one want to only run away. Jack made a small sound of surprise. He felt as if something had just wrapped about his waist and gave a good tug. He stumbled forward a few steps, stopping right in front of the scarecrow. His gaze lifted up to meet with its leering face.

"Why are you here?" The scarecrow asked again.

Jack cleared his throat, "I… I'm in search of the source of the zombie hoard which is invading Halloween Town." He motioned back in the direction he'd come. "Please, have you seen them? Do they come from this direction?"

"People come." The scarecrow's tone was dark and low, "People go. But I stay. I see them. I see all them."

"So the zombies do come through here?" Jack asked hopefully.

"I don't recall."

Jack slumped slightly, "You don't recall?"

"Did I say that now?"

"Yes… Yes, as a matter of fact, you did."

"Hm. How odd."

Silence.

Jack noticed that there was a board mounted atop the post the scarecrow was tied to. He squinted up at it, trying to make out the inscription, as it was sure to give him some idea of the crimes this person had to commit to be placed out here. Sadly, the words were worn beyond any legibility. So Jack simply asked. "Why is it you're tied to a post out here?"

"Hm. An excellent question." The scarecrow replied grimly, gazing off with a bitter expression. "Let me see… either I'm tied here so I cannot return to Halloween Town… or I cannon return to Halloween Town because I am tied here. I don't recall which."

Jack blinked. He wasn't sure what to think about this. He watched as the scarecrow rocked against its bounds, still attempting to walk and seemingly undaunted by the fact it was getting nowhere.

"Why are you here?" The scarecrow asked again.

"I already told you." Jack replied, his fear starting to fade and be replaced by annoyance.

"But that's the wrong reason." The scarecrow told him. "Why are you here?"

Jack sighed and held his forehead. "I'm sorry. I must continue on my way." He muttered, moving to walk past and up toward the bridge. A handless wooden dowel of an arm shot out to bar his path, and Jack jumped in surprise.

"Where do you think you're going?" It snapped, its firelight flaring brightly. "Back down! You know not what things await you."

Jack took a small step back. "I have to find where the zombies are coming from!" He protested.

"And why? What do you plan to do? Stop them?" It laughed.

"I'm going to try!"

"Try, he says!" The scarecrow shrieked in laughter. "Try and stop the dead! Oh, try all you like! Yes, do try! Try and fail! But by all means, do try, Skeleton Jack! Just not here!"

Jack pulled back sharply, "How do you know my name?"

"Irrelevant!" The scarecrow snapped, "Turn back now!"

"I won't!" Jack snapped back. "I have to do this!"

"Do as you must then." The scarecrow growled, turning away in disgust.

Jack moved up onto the bridge, pausing at the top of the hill. The guardrails were made from large logs mounted on short stumps. These were all rotting and looked fit to give at any moment. The planks under his feet were splintered and creaked.

This mist was thick upon the bridge Jack squinted ahead. He could hardly see an arm's length in front of himself. He hadn't gone very far when he paused and looked over his shoulder to find he couldn't see the start of the bridge any more. He couldn't even see the glow of the scarecrow's candle through the fog. Cautiously, he moved towards the railing and peered over the edge. The gray, swirling mist was all he could see below. Jack faced forward again. He thought he could see the end of the bridge ahead, but wasn't sure. He kept moving forward and never seemed to get any closer to what he could swear was just beyond the fog. He put a hand out in front of himself, choosing his footing carefully. Much to his surprise, the mist suddenly became so thick that he could no longer see his hand. He took a half step forward, watching curiously as more of his arm became swallowed up by the haze. A chill ran through him and he pulled back.

His arm would not budge. He pulled harder to no avail, as if the mist itself were gripping onto him. In fact, it started to wrap about his arm, climbing up towards his shoulder and neck. It felt like ice, and the longer it touched him, the more it stung. Jack cried out and struggled more fiercely. The icy grip persisted, slipping through his cloths and grabbing about his ribs. In fact, it almost felt as if the mist was pushing through his bones, as well. The stinging grew even more intense then before. Jack winced and felt his knees almost give. He forced himself to stay standing, struggling to not give in to the pain. He threw his whole weight against the grip of whatever invisible force was trying to take him. The mist persisted, snaking about his spine and hips, the cold biting deep.

"Let go!" Jack screamed out, pain think in his voice. Much to his surprise, the mist recoiled slightly. He screamed it again, "Let go! Let me go! Now!" There was a moment's pause as he continued to pull against the grip. Very suddenly, the mist withdrew, sending Jack tumbling backwards across the bridge. He instantly rolled back onto his feet and wasted no time in darting back from where he'd come from. The fog seemed lighter on the way back, but he didn't have much time to think about it. Much faster than it had been going the other direction, Jack found the end of the bridge with its scarecrow guardian, who was cackling like a madman as it saw the skeleton come flying back down the incline.

"I warned you, Skeleton Jack!" It cackled, "Seek elsewhere, you fool!"

Jack didn't even pause to acknowledge this. The way back down The Road was a blur to his memory. His legs carried him as quickly as they could, past the hazy fields and back to the safety of the twisted forests and pumpkin patches. The way back seemed shorter than the walk there, and perhaps this was only because he was running as though his afterlife depended on it.

The familiar spot where he had first met the Pumpkin Kind came into view, and only then did Jack let himself slow. The skeleton skidded to a stop down upon his knees, doubling over and wrapping his arms about himself, shaking uncontrollably. His legs called for mercy, his body still stung from the lingering icy bite of the mist, and the vicious laughter of the scarecrow echoed through his mind.

Trying to calm his trembling, Jack slowly turned his gaze skyward. He didn't know when it had happened, but it seemed as if the sun was just suddenly up in the sky. It was nearly noon, but he could have sworn it was midnight a moment before. He forced himself back onto his feet carefully, still shaking slightly. Zayne would be home by now, and Zero was likely turning circles in the entryway as he awaited his master's return.

There was a rustling in the pumpkin patch nearby. Jack's gaze snapped over in alarm to find a pair of wolf eyes staring back at him from between tree branches.

"Jack! There you are!" Match said in a hushed tone.

"So I am." Jack forced a chuckle, however nervous it sounded.

"Run home! Now! Quick!" Match urged him, still keeping his voice down.

"What? Why?"

"It's Zayne." Match replied grimly, his gaze moving towards town.

Jack's face also turned towards Halloween Town in alarm. Had he still a heart, it would have been racing. "Zayne? What about him!"

But when he looked back, Match was already gone.

_Story © Gina Trujillo, December 17, 2004._

_Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton._


	14. Truth

_Ah, I couldn't resist holding this chapter back an extra day or so and making everyone have a heart attack. evil laugh Yeah, I know, I'm cruel. _

_Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne and Game, Set and Match, who are my characters._

Truth

Zero hovered nearby his master, silent and very concerned. Jack sat on a chair in the hall, elbows on his knees and head hung. He was so worried, he could hardly think. He felt like he was going to cry and was resisting the feeling all he could. He told himself over and over that he was jumping to conclusions. After all, he had yet to hear the final word on the situation. The news The Mayor had given him was not good, and he tried to tell himself that the man had a way of exaggerating everything.

While Jack had thought he'd spent all night out on The Road, this was not the case. As it turned out, he'd been gone two whole nights. He was at a loss to explain this. He knew this meant that Zayne had gone into battle worrying about his whereabouts. Jack held his head in both hands.

The door to Zayne's room opened and Doctor Finklestien wheeled his way out. Jack stood quickly from his seat.

"He needs rest. You understand?" The doctor told him, "No walking around, no fighting. He needs to stay in bed at least a week. I'm going to be back tomorrow to check on him."

"Thank you, doctor." Jack whispered.

Doctor Finklestien wheeled to the door. The moment before he reached it, spider like mechanical legs sprouted from his wheelchair. He opened the door and descended the stairs, assuring a crowd that had gathered outside that the king would be fine.

Jack entered Zayne's room quietly as he could. The Pumpkin King lay upon his bed, hands resting on carefully folded covers. He gave Jack a tired smile. Jack felt the urge to weep grow stronger with each step he took towards he bed. The room smelled of burnt straw, and Jack could only imagine what condition Zayne's body was in. The damage he could see was upon the king's face. A deep slash ran across the left side of this face, right across his eye. Firelight shone through the fresh wound, accenting it in a very ghoulish manner.

Sinking to his knees at the bedside, Jack found he didn't know what to say, nor could he find his voice if he had known.

"Good to see you're safe, Jack." Zayne whispered sincerely.

"What happened?" Jack finally managed to ask.

"I let my guard down, I guess. I actually can't remember very clearly."

"Zayne, who are you fighting? Who did this to you?" The Pumpkin King was going to dodge around this question. Jack could see this and interrupted before excuses could be made. "I need to know! There's something serious going on here, and maybe you can shut out the town's people without question to your actions, but I'm not content to sit back and be kept in the dark! Please, just tell me what's going on… What are we up against?"

"You're not ready to know." Zayne replied.

"Don't give me that!" Jack snapped a bit more fiercely than he would have liked. "I only want to help you! From the look of things, it's getting out of hand. _What are we up against?"_

There was a pause before Zayne sighed. "There is a war going on, Jack. Not just here. The war here is the aftermath of one raging in the World of the Living. The zombies here in our world will fight until the war in the other world has stopped."

Jack's jaw went slack. "What are you telling me? That you're trying to stop a war?"

Zayne nodded slowly, then closed his eyes. His candlelight dimmed. "I know you want to help, but you are not ready for these battles, my friend."

"Don't tell me that!" Jack suddenly snapped, moving to his feet.

Zayne opened his uninjured eye carefully, the firelight increasing only slightly.

Jack's gaze dropped to the floor in an ashamed manner and he tried to justify his outburst. "I just want to help. That's why I was gone."

A pause.

"Care to elaborate?"

Jack shifted nervously. Part of him wanted to throw the secrecy back in Zayne's face. He refrained. "I heard a rumor that the zombies all come from The Road…"

"What!" Zayne tried to sit up, wincing. He laid back another moment, eyes closed, before speaking again. "I thought I told you to stay away from there."

"You did." Jack was saying before the king was even done talking. "You did. I'm sorry. But I-"

"You could have been lost forever, Jack!" Zayne turned his head to look at him. "No one ever goes down that road and returns again!"

"I did." Jack protested weakly.

Silence.

"How far down did you go?" Zayne asked at length.

"As far as a bridge."

"What!" Zayne exclaimed again, once more shifting as if to sit up. Jack set a hand upon the king's shoulder to stay him, starting to tell him that doctor's orders were for him not to move. Zayne didn't really listen and continued irately, his words overlapping with Jack. "You went to the bridge! Do you realize how close to oblivion you were? You're not ready to go there! You could have been lost forever!"

"I was only trying to help." Jack insisted again. "Look at you! You're going to get yourself killed, Zayne!"

"I'm already dead." Zayne replied after a pause in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit, to no avail. "You don't need to worry about me."

Jack crossed his arms and lifted a brow at him.

"Really, you shouldn't." Zayne insisted.

With a shake of his head, Jack turned to leave. "Rest yourself, majesty." He whispered in parting before the door was shut.

Story © Gina Trujillo, December 20, 2004.

Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton.


	15. Plotting and Pain

_Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton, except for Zayne and Game, Set and Match, who are my characters._

Plotting and Pain

Game chuckled and slithered about with glee. "Thisss isss perfect! Thisss isss better that I could have planned!"

Set was laid back in her silk-lined coffin, hands tucked behind her head. "It's just too bad one of us didn't find Zayne when he was dragging himself back to Halloween Town. It would have been so easy to take him down for good!"

Match shifted uneasily where he sat on the floor in the corner, saying nothing, but listening to his partners in crime.

Game leaned over the top of Set's coffin, flashing her a toothy grin. "Did Match tell you? Jack hasss returned from hisss quessst. I trussst you can get the information from him?"

Set returned the grin, looking at Game in an upside down manner. "Of course!" She motioned as if she were wrapping something around her little finger. "I have him totally under my control. Trust me."

"Good, good! Match and myssself will sssee about getting in better with him, alssso."

"Why, Game." Set propped herself up on her elbows, "Could it be you're actually burying a grudge?"

"Oh, not ssso, Ssset. Believe me to be friend, all the better to twissst the knife in him."

"You really are pure evil." Set told her with admiration.

"Yesss, I know."

A booming voice came from down the long stone hallway of the old fortress. "GAME!"

The snake woman twisted about and disappeared quickly into the darkness with an eager "Coming, Massster!"

There was silence for a moment before Set looked over to the corner where Match was slumped dejectedly. "What are you moping about for?"

The wolf lifted his head, ears picking up. "Hm? Oh. Uh. Nothin'."

Set rolled her eyes at him and stood, stepping over to his side. "Something's bothering you. What is it?" She asked in a tired tone.

Match looked away. Set turned his head back to face her with a dainty hand upon his chin. "Tell me." She said in a tone as if she were talking to a child.

Match gazed into her eyes with a hurt puppy expression. "I was just thinkin', y'know…"

Set laughed, "Oh, really?" She looked as if she doubted this.

"Yeah. 'Bout you spendin' so much time with Jack…"

"Don't you worry." She chirped, "I can handle myself. I could easily take him on, trust me!"

"You're not really… you know… startin' to like him… are you?"

Set laughed loudly at this and gave his shoulder a playful push. "Oh, you're funny, Match! You know me better than that! I'm just toying with him."

"Good. Uh, good. Just uh… be careful."

"When am I not careful?" Set joked, leaning against his shoulder and wrapping her arms loosely about his neck.

"Always." Match's tone was a bit more serious. He turned toward her and wrapped a huge paw about her. "I mean it. You be careful."

Set laughed at him. "Stop, really. It's all under control." She laid her head upon his shoulder. Match tensed up, as if bracing himself. She continued. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're jealous, Match."

The wolf snorted angrily. "Jealous of him? HA! Right…"

The vampire giggled again and nuzzled against his neck. "Good." She whispered. Match felt her breath against his fur and braced himself once more, wincing and snarling quietly through clinched teeth as she took an afternoon meal. Her bite stung and she was anything but careful about it, in spite of the fact that this was a friend who offered his blood willingly. But Match was used to it… in fact he didn't expect anything less from her. He closed his eyes tightly and waited for the pain to stop...

_Notes: Okay, I know there's supposed to be some kind of weird thing about werewolves and vampires not eating each other or something, but the only place I have yet to really see this stated as a hard core rule was in the movie "Underworld." I'd already had this part with Set and Match planed out, so I'm throwing the werewolf/vampire rules of that sort out the window. Besides, according to other sources, if a werewolf dies, they become a vampire, and others still say that if a person is killed by a wolf, they will become a vampire. Clearly there's enough different stories out there that it makes it hard to stay true to all of them. So, Underworld fans, please don't rip me a new one for a vampire feeding off of a werewolf. Thank you._

Story © Gina Trujillo, December 20, 2004.

Jack Skellington and all related characters © Tim Burton.


	16. Game On

_Is this story dead, you ask? … damned near. I had this chapter lying about for a while and I thought that I'd better just post it. I dare say, all of my readers have likely abandoned it by now. I'm trying to wrap the story up in my mind. I'd like to get to end, believe me. However, with the way things currently are in my life, other more pressing matters (and stories) have taken over. Fan fictions have to take a back-seat these days._

_I do want to finish this story, I just can't promise when I will be able to._

Game On

The nights and days were dragging. Time had slowed to a crawl in Jack's mind. He struggled to go about his tasks as usual, but the burden was almost too much. The workload wasn't more than it had been the first time Zayne was out of commission. It simply felt that way. The whole ordeal weighed heavy upon his proverbial heart. Still, he had to make sure things continued to run as smoothly as possible within Halloween Town.

The day of Halloween was still a good ways off, but Jack was beginning to see why it took so long to truly plan for the celebration. Meetings and debates, followed by more meetings, planning, blueprints and the like filled his days. As with most things in this world he existed in, there was more to Halloween than what was seen on the surface. More to it than even he knew, Jack thought.

Nearly a week had passed since Zayne had become bedridden. Jack was in a meeting in the town hall one evening. The skeleton poured over paper upon paper, idea upon idea, the Mayor at his side and a committee of ghouls all about the table. Everyone was a bit distant, their thoughts partially upon the fact that things didn't feel right without King Zayne there to lead everything along. That is, everyone except for the Mayor, whose chipper side had taken over in full swing, as if nothing had gone wrong at all. Jack figured this was the man's defense against bad things in the world; pretend it's not there and it shall go away. He almost envied him for being able to do it so well.

Jack heard something from outside and his head jerked in the direction of the sound. A distant, echoing whimper. It quickly grew louder and Zero very suddenly came flying through the double doors into the middle of the meeting. The skeleton watched the ghost dog as it moved about in frantic circles around him, and then darted out through the door again.

Something was very wrong.

Jack hastily muttered a pardon and instructed everyone to continue the discussion with out him, promising to be back shortly as he sprinted out the doors after his dog. His mind raced faster and faster with every step he took on the road back to his home.

Zero lead the way through the front gates and up the steps to the house. Jack skidded upon the floor in the entryway in his haste, darting down the hallway and into Zayne's room. He froze in his tracks.

A figure was perched upon the foot of the bed, serpent like body wrapped about the bedposts. It was Game, only she looked far larger than usual, her whole body nearly twice the size Jack was used to seeing. She sat in what looked like a predatory position, looming over the Pumpkin King, as if ready to pounce upon her prey at any moment. Jack felt a gripping fear shoot through his bones as he gazed at her.

Zero growled, but quickly interrupted himself with the hurt whimper he'd been using all the way home.

Jack moved to lunge at her, wanting to scream and demand to know what was going on. Game turned calmly towards him in the darkness and lifted a tentacle arm to her lips as a sign for quiet. "Hisss majesssty isss sssleeping."

The skeleton blinked sharply at her, pulling back slightly. "What?"

"He'sss asssleep. Mussstn't disssturb him." She hissed quietly, looking back towards Zayne with an expression that could almost pass for fondness. Almost. "Ssso ssad, to sssee him thisss way." She daintily slid to the floor, moving about the far side of the bed, away from Jack. A tentacle moved toward the king's face.

"Get away from him!" Jack demanded, moving forward.

Game promptly pulled back. "Sssssh! Be sssilent!" He growled in a loud whisper.

Zayne shifted uneasily in the bed, but didn't wake up.

"You should not be here." Jack said lowly, "Leave this instant."

Game's eyes narrowed at him in the darkness. Her voice hissed dangerously, "I am sssimply visssiting hisss majesssty. I wisssh to pay my ressspectsss."

"You have done so. Now leave." Jack replied.

The snake woman gave a tsk, her coils shifting about the floor in annoyance. Her eyes stayed transfixed on the king all the while. "He'sss dying, you know." She said suddenly.

"W-what?" Jack stammered.

"You're losssing him, Jack. Even assss we ssspeak." Game continued.

"Lies!" Jack spat back, trying to keep his voice down, "Zayne is recovering."

Game shook her head in reply to this, her locks of hair falling about her shoulders. "Ssso sssays Doctor Finklessstien." The name held the most distasteful of tones to it. "But asssk yourssself thisss… if he'sss sssuch a good physssician, why isss he disssabled ssso?"

The thought hadn't crossed Jack's mind before. The doctor was confined to his wheelchair most all the time, but why had never been something Jack had thought to ask. In spite of this, Jack wasn't about to drop his guard. Game was an intruder in his home, and was going to be treated as such. The skeleton pointed a long finger towards the hall. "Out." He growled lowly.

"Ssso cold of you." Game mocked. "Sssad. I had really hoped we might be friendsss, Jack."

"I said get out." Jack growled again, his tone becoming less quiet. "Do _not _make me ask you again!"

Game's lips twisted into a vicious smirk. Instead of moving away from the bed, she leaned upon it again, wrapping her coils about the end bedpost. "Ssso what do you exssspect to do? Forccce me out?" And she laughed.

The skeleton's gaze turned to a glare. Before Game knew it, he was beside her, leaping over the bed and taking her by the shoulders. She had shape-shifted to a form that was very large, and standing beside her made this horribly clear to Jack. All the same, he turned her about by her shoulders and gave her a push onward, trying to move her toward the door. This was not working very well.

The snake woman hissed at the attempt. She did not like to be forced to do anything, particularly by Jack. Her long tail wrapped quickly about the skeleton's knees and she flung him backwards. Jack winced as he head hit the stone floor. His vision blurred and reeled. Game was suddenly upon him, lifting him off the floor. He regained his senses all too late, finding himself trapped within the clutches of the snake woman. Her serpent body was wrapped tightly about him, his arms pinned at his sides.

"Ssstupid of you, Jack." Game hissed at him, her face beside his as she leaned over his shoulder. Her forked tongue flicked out between her lips. "I wasss willing to ssstay cccivil before, but you jussst pusssh me to my limitsss. Know thisss. I hold no compassssion for you, ssskeleton. I would love nothing more than to sssnap you in two." Her grip started to slowly tighten, twisting and constricting. Jack winced, feeling as if he couldn't breathe, never mind the fact that he truly didn't need to in the first place. Game continued to hiss quietly to him in a voice dripping with hate. "But, alassss… I'm not sssuposssed to. And do you know why?"

Jack could hardly concentrate on her words through the pain. He shook his head quickly to indicate he did not.

Her tone was one of being absolutely appalled. "Becausssse of my ssstupid sssissster, Ssset. Ssshe protectsss you. Ssshe hasss begged I ssspare you. Dissscusssssing!" She spat the words, giving one last tight squeeze. Jack gave a muffled cry as a cracking sound came.

"Tell anyone I wasss here, and not even Ssset can sssave you." The snake woman then dropped him to the floor. Game smirked, rather pleased as she watched Jack double over upon himself and shudder in pain. She slithered past him, headed for the door. "Ssstay out of my way, ssskeleton." She added as a parting comment.

Jack lifted his head to watch her leave, witnessing something he didn't expect in the least. As Game moved away from him, she became drastically smaller and smaller until she was maybe a foot tall. She then lay on her stomach, and slipped rather easily under the large gap under the door.

Jack winced and gripped his ribs again. There came a soft whimper from under the bed, where Zero had taken shelter. The little ghost dog came out of hiding, floating in an odd manner that made Jack think that his dog was limping. He noticed that there were two strange, dark spots on Zero's side, looking like bite marks. His brow furrowed at this thought, but he didn't let himself get too deep into it. He had other things to worry about at the moment, and the inner workings of Halloween Town would have to wait until later.

Holding his ribs with one hand, Jack forced himself back up to his knees beside the bed. He put a hand on Zayne's shoulder and shook him. The king shifted in his sleep, but once again, he did not wake up. Jack carefully took hold of him with both hands and tried again. This time, Zayne's candlelight flickered on and his eyes opened sleepily, looking at Jack in confusion.

The skeleton breathed a small sigh of relief, seeing that his friend was not actually dead. "I just… never mind." Jack muttered as an excuse for himself, meeting Zayne's confused expression. The king smiled slightly in a sleepy manner and closed his eyes again, fast asleep within seconds.

The skeleton slumped to the floor beside the bed, his back against the wall. Zero whimpered as he crawled into his master's lap, seeking comfort for his own wounds. Game had, indeed, bitten the little dog, and the shock from it was what had sent Zero running across Halloween Town in search of Jack.

A bone hand ran lightly along Zero's misty body. Satisfied that he was safe at last, the dog closed his eyes and was soon dozing along with Zayne.

Jack stayed awake, eyes glaring into the darkness as if he feared that the very shadows would rise up and swallow all he held dear. He was too afraid to actually inspect himself to see what damage Game had really inflicted. He simply tried to tell himself that none of it was as bad as he thought. He wanted to believe that Game wasn't actually out for blood, (figuratively speaking,) that he wasn't wounded, that things would go back to something normal soon. More than anything else, he wanted to believe that Zayne was going to be alright. He could sense that everything was getting to be more than he could handle. He wanted it all to just be a bad dream he could wake up from.

Some nightmares are not so easy to awaken from.

Copyright © Gina Trujillo, 2005-2006. Characters © Tim Burton, with the exception of Game and Zayne.


	17. Bonds of Friendship

_Wow, look at this! Another chapter! Finally! dead_

_I've been working on a comic project and a detective novel. I just decided this morning that I felt like toying with some fan fiction. Makes for a nice writing warm-up and writer's block breaker. And now I actually have an idea of where this is all going and what has to happen in the next few chapters, so things may move along again in the (somewhat) near future._

_Once again, a huge, huge, HUGE thanks to those of you still following this story. You guys are super cool and I don't deserve it. ;_

Bonds of Friendship

Set sat alone in the graveyard, filing her nails to a nice little point. She was bored and Jack was late to his lesson. She pondered how much more time and energy she would have to put into training him before Game and their master would finally move the plan along. They were getting close, she hoped. The sword training was getting tiresome.

There came a sound of someone approaching from behind her. Set tossed her hair a bit and turned, "About time you showed up," she cooed. She came face to face with Match and her tone changed from silk to sandpaper. "Oh, it's just you."

"Yeah, just me," Match echoed as he crouched near to where she was seated. "You've been gone a while. It's not safe out here with those zombies still on the loose."

"I'm fine," Set replied, lifting her head high and casting her gaze far off toward the town, "I can handle myself."

"I know, it's just…. Nevermind."

A silence followed.

"So you're… waiting for Jack?"

"What else would I be doing?" Set snipped back at him.

"I donnno." A pause. "Do you think he's even coming?"

"He had better. It's not polite to keep a lady waiting."

"He's got a lot to deal with lately," Match shrugged.

"And?" Set looked indigent, "How could any of it be more important than me?"

Match looked at her sidelong in silence.

Set gave an annoyed sigh. "I'm not waiting out here all night. That's so boring." She stood, straightening her dress with long fingers, "Maybe I'll just go find him."

"Maybe you should just come home," Match suggested quietly.

To this, the vampire scoffed. "Home is boring."

"We could do something… un-boring?" Match suggested.

"Like what?"

"I…. I donno…" Match looked away under the fierce gaze she cast upon him.

"I donno, I donno," Set mocked him. "Is there anything you do know?" The werewolf was about to answer, but she didn't give him the chance, "Of course not. I've seen rocks that know more than you do. You're such a pain, always following me around like a lost puppy! Why don't you just go home and leave me to my business?"

"I… I… Okay." Match stammered, slowly coming to his feet, "I just wanted… I mean, I was only…"

"Oh, stop your sputtering," Set tsked at him, pointing sharply in the direction of home. "Go on."

Match started dragging off, his feet hardly lifting off the ground, back hunched even more-so than usual. "Set?" he paused.

"What?" the vampire snapped back at him.

"I…" he slowly turned to face her again, "I just wanted to tell- LOOK OUT!"

There was a blur of fur and claws and a flash of steel before her eyes. Set tumbled in the dirt and brambles as she was pushed out of the way. Match planted himself between her and the zombie who had somehow managed to sneak up on them. Teeth bared and snarling, he leapt on the attacker and made short work of him. However, this was only the beginning of their troubles. As Match rose from the dismembered corpse, he found other undead were closing in fast. The werewolf knew how to hold his own against a foe, or even a group. But this was a small army, with more joining them every second.

Match spun about, "Get your sword…" his voice trailed away as he saw more zombies closing in behind him. Up on the next hill, he caught a glimpse of Set, running away as fast as her nimble legs would carry her. "Set!" he cried out after her. She did not slow her pace. She was gone from his sight.

A sting of a literal blade in his back followed that of the metaphorical one. The werewolf howled out his pain. All bets were off. Match was sent into a spinning rage. Claws and teeth ripped at the rotting flesh, strong arms sent bodies flying. The sound of the battle was so thunderous that the gateman of Halloween Town later reported hearing it.

Match did devastating damage to their numbers. Still, their numbers were far too great for him to take on alone. The wounds were catching up with him, his muscles tiring. He knew he would not be able to keep this up much longer. They were going to overtake him, and he was going to take as many of them with him as he could.

The sound of steel upon steel echoed in his ears, joined by a demonic howl. He knew that sound. The werewolf's gaze jerked up to see Jack at his side. The rapier in his hand deflected blades away from Match. A cry went up among the men, "La Muerta! La Muerta!" One by one they lost their nerve. The zombie army scattered away into the darkness like screaming cockroaches.

Panting, Match slumped to his hands and knees. He looked up sidelong. "Thank you, Jack," he breathed.

Jack knelt beside him, hand resting light on one of his huge shoulders. "Let's get you to Doctor Finklestein."

"No," Match replied, still catching his breath, "I'll be alright."

"Alright?" Jack echoed, "You're badly injured! You need to come with me."

Match shook his head, forcing himself to stand. "I'll be alright," he repeated, "My master will take care of me."

The large man swayed on his feet. Jack's arm shot out to help steady him. It was clear that he wasn't going to get very far unaided. "Let's take you to your master, then," Jack said, pulling a huge arm about his own thin shoulders. Match tried to argue that he was fine, but Jack wouldn't hear it. Reluctant, the werewolf allowed Jack to be his crutch and started to lead the way to his home.

"I don't think my master's gonna be very happy to see you," Match admitted after a short time.

"Why not?" Jack asked. After all, he'd done nothing wrong.

"He, uh… He's kind of got some… issues."

"Issues?" Jack coaxed.

"Yeah, just… let's make sure he doesn't see you."

Jack frowned. His back hunched as Match stumbled and he had to help steady the werewolf. "If you say so," Jack grunted. There was a pause as Match got his balance back. "Are you not allowed visitors?"

"Something like that," Match squinted and winced.

"Who is your master?" Jack asked. Before he could get an answer –or even state the whole question, in fact- Match suddenly lost his balance again. Jack did his best to catch him, but this only resulted in the huge werewolf falling on top of him. The ribs that Game had previously cracked did not like this repeated injury one bit. Jack muttered a sting of quiet "ow" sounds as he and Match both stood again. The skeleton's gaze lifted to the tower that could be seen sticking out over the hills a ways off. This was going to be a long walk.

_Copyright © Gina Trujillo, 2007. Jack Skellington © Tim Burton. You all know who my fan characters are. Don't copy, alter, or redistribute my story. Yeah._


	18. To Seek Elsewhere

_This chapter went though so many different renditions and ideas, it's ridiculous. . Not really what I was originally going for, but happy with it none-the-less. _

To Seek Elsewhere

Things were getting dangerous. Too many people were being injured. Something had to be done. Someone had to fix all of this.

Something had to be done.

Seek elsewhere, the mysterious scarecrow had said. Being that The Road had given him no results, Jack had no other choice. He had to take action. Things had gone too far.

Something had to be done.

Over and over again, Jack repeated this to himself in his mind as his agile legs spurred him on. Obstacles in his path were easily avoided. Leaping, ducking, dodging, the skeleton moved swiftly through the forest. He could hear the footsteps behind him, the angry shouting of those in pursuit.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

A few days before, Jack had been moving through darkened tunnels, a lantern held high to light his way. The sword at his side felt so heavy, more than ever before. It was there just in case, he told himself. He would not draw the thing unless it was unavoidable. He was just going to go look at things. That was all. Just go see what was going on. Nothing more.

Tragic how some things just refuse to go according to plan.

Jack had exited the tunnels though a thin wooden door that he found at the top of a staircase. He found himself climbing out of a pine casket on the other side. Eyeless sockets scanned the area, finding himself at the edge of a small town near a forest. He stayed low and took cover behind bushes. There was no one out and about at such an hour of night. He reminded himself that people in the world of the living are generally not nocturnal creatures.

There was, however, a camp fire in the distance, a flickering light through the trees. Jack followed this light with the utmost of caution. He had become excellent at stealth, even in the wooded area. Hardly a sound came as he quickly closed the gap between himself and the unknown camp.

Hundreds of tents stood in lines. He moves along the outskirts of them, spying on the soldiers within, trying to listen to what was happening. Much to his disappointment, no one within the camp spoke any language he knew. Still, he stayed for a good time, trying to find any information he could.

After hours had passed, Jack's determination was failing. Tired and frustrated, he headed back toward the town in the gray morning light. It was time to return home. He returned to the little building on the outskirts of town where his doorway to the world of the living was. Jack froze in his tracks, staring at the place out behind a building where the pine casket had laid earlier that night.

It was gone.

The skeleton searched and searched, but nothing could he find. No indication of where it had been taken to, no other link back to his world. Nothing. The noontime sun found him lying beneath a tree in the middle of the forest, staring up through the green branches as he grappled with the panic and feeling of being so utterly lost. Set adrift, his mind kept telling him. Set adrift, lost forever. No, he kept arguing, not forever. There had to be a way back to Halloween Town, and he would find it. But until that time, he may as well do what he could to find out more about the war and put an end to it.

This is how Jack came to stay in the world of the living for a time. He moved through the forests under cover of night, going from camp to camp –as there were many in the area- in search of some kind of information. Anything that would help him, really. He wanted to know most of all who was in charge and why this war had been started in the first place.

It was three nights before Jack broke any fresh ground. After a fierce melee between the two opposing sides spilled over very close to the town, Jack followed the enemy soldiers back through the forest in their retreat. He was thrilled to find he could understand what they were saying. Even so, the words were clear, but the meaning behind the war was still not. It wasn't long before Jack decided that it was all about politics that he hadn't the fainted idea the details of, nor was anyone likely to really talk about it in depth among themselves.He came up with a solution to this, however simple and idiotic it may have seemed, even to him at the time.

"Excuse me," Jack's voice rang out one night from behind a tent, "What exactly his this whole war about?"

The men around the campfire exchanged glances and went for weapons, wondering who this voice belonged to and where they were hiding at. "Show yourself!"

Jack paused and rubbed his forehead. "That's really not a good idea," he called back, listening for anyone approaching. "I was just wondering what you're all fighting for."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Jack."

It became very clear that no one was interesting in answering Jack's question, only shouting back questions of their own. "What side are you on?"

"A third party, as it were, actually. You see, this war is rather affecting my town and I'd like to know if you think it's going to stop soon."

The soldiers looked at each other. Who was this terribly polite, yet horribly dim-witted stranger? All talking stopped and an all out search for the mystery voice commenced. Soon the whole night shift was on the job. As Jack took shelter in the high branches of a tree that night, watching the people far below look for him, he cursed himself for such a plan.

Jack leaned out from his branch a bit, trying to listen in on what was being said once again. The commander of the army was down below, shouting orders and generally being very bossy. It seemed they were by now convinced beyond all doubt that there was a spy for the enemy loose in the woods. Jack frowned. What kind of a spy asks the opposing faction if they think the war will end soon? No matter. It was out of his hands.

A cracking sound suddenly came. Jack gave a gasp before he found himself falling, and by the time that registered in his mind, the fall ended abruptly with a sickening _thunk._ Jack cursed under his breath as he laid face-down on the forest floor. This had certainly not been a good month for him.

A weapon pressed to his spine. Jack's eyes widened. He held perfectly still.

"Just a corpse," the man standing over him called out. The attention of the soldiers quickly turned upward to the trees, trying to figure out how this skeleton had fallen, and how it had ended up in the tree in the first place.

Sure that they had almost caught their spy, it was clear that the men were not about to leave the area anytime soon. Jack lay on the ground, fear giving way to pure annoyance at the fact that he had to hold still and act dead for a few _hours_ while they searched all around him. It was particularly hard to not react when the commander rolled him over and then proceeded to steal his sword and search his pockets. That was just rude, Jack thought, but he kept up the act.

Finally, the soldiers had given up. They resolved to simply keep more guards and speak far less of their plans, which made Jack want to go bang his head against a tree for a while. He refrained.

It looked as though they would leave him be, until the soldiers suddenly started to discuss what they were going to do with the skeleton. They were curious and mused about why the corpse was wearing such outdated clothing and how long it must have been in the tree. This lead into debate over if they should give it a proper burial. At these words, a strange sense of longing first swept over Jack. However, the thought of how kind this was quickly was overtaken by the panicked thoughts of how he was going to manage to dig himself out of a grave.

Fortune and disaster smiled upon him in one fell swoop. A man spoke up, saying that they didn't have time to be digging graves for any nameless corpses. Just as Jack felt the relief of this, he then felt the man's boot meet with his already cracked ribs in a bitter kick. Before he could stop himself, Jack winced.

All eyes turned sharply on Jack, who was once again doing his level best not to move, in spite of the now stinging pain running through his side. There was a tense silence that seemed to last an eternity. A few soldiers dared to pull their gaze from the corpse to glance at each other in disbelief. A rather young man crept forward. Timidly, he knelt down near to Jack, just out of arm's reach. He then picked up a long stick. Jack mentally told himself over and over again not to react, no matter what he did. This may have worked, if not for the fact that the soldier inched the stick toward his face. There was a moment in which Jack wondered if that stick could actually hurt if it poked him in the eye socket. A second later, he had his answer as he gave a cry of surprise and jerked away, holding his face.

All out panic erupted. In the chaos that followed, it was all Jack could do to escape. It was hard to see now, and he was completely confounded by the concept of an empty eye socket feeling pain. Then again, the mere fact that he could ever see out of it in the first place was a bit of a psychical impossibility, so he opted to drop the whole debate and just run.

While half the soldiers fled for their lives, the other half became determined to destroy this 'unholy creature' they had found. Jack no longer had his sword. He also realized that even if he did, he would not have been a match for the fighting skills of these soldiers. It was all Jack could do to dodge their attacks and make his escape.

How much time passed, Jack could not guess. Losing the soldiers was no simple task, but one by one, they fell behind. He had an advantage in speed and agility. When the last of their voices and footfalls were but a faint echo in Jack's mind, he allowed himself to stop. His joints ached and cracked ribs throbbed. He found himself lightly panting, in spite of the fact he really didn't need to breathe. Jack scanned the area and let out a sigh of relief once he saw that he was alone.

He assumed such too soon.

A battle cry rang out and Jack's head reeled. The world spun and fell from focus, the ground rising to meet with him. He shuddered as he lay in the dirt, a hand moving to grip his skull. The battle call came again, the sound of it drown out by a loud cracking noise. The world gave way and nothing existed anymore, save for his own scream. It must have been enough to frighten the attacker momentarily, as there was a pause between attacks. Jack lifted his head in time to see the man standing over him, sword held high. The blade then came down in a curve. Jack tried to scream again, but found that no sound would come. He watched something go flying off into the darkness, although he was unsure what.

He couldn't take much more of this.

A final time, the blade swung in, met its target in his broken ribs and stayed there. The attacker gave a gasp, staring at the skeletal hand clasped about his own. Jack's gaze moved up the blade to meet with the face of the man, a flickering blaze alight within his eyeless sockets. In an instant he was on his feet again, a hand tightly about the man's throat. The man's sword ripped Jack's tunic as the blade slid harmlessly between his ribs.

Jack wanted to scream. He wanted to curse and demand explanation. He found he could not. He had no voice. He did not care to look for an explanation. All he could think was how he just wanted to squeeze the life out of the man before him. He wanted to end the one who had injured him. Yet as he glared into the fearful eyes of his attacker, he saw something there that made the blind rage slowly subside. A glassy glaze over the man's eyeballs welled up within the corners and spilled over, running down his cheeks.

Tears?

One fell upon Jack's arm and he blinked sharply. The fire in his eyes was gone. His grip shook and loosened before he dropped the man to the ground, not even having realized he lifted him in the first place. The skeleton slowly backed away, not letting his gaze leave the trembling man. Finally, Jack pointed sharply off into the forest. He did not know where he was pointing, just so long as the man would go away. Without hesitation, the soldier disappeared into the night.

A dizziness overtook Jack. He swayed and grasped for a tree branch to support him. His head was throbbing. He reached up with one hand to find that the back of his skull was cracked. He decided that if he had a stomach, he would have lost the contents of it right then and there. As it was, he felt his body move in the imitation of a gag. To make matters worse, this was what made him realize what had flown off into the forest during the attack. It was his jawbone.

On hands and knees, Jack searched for the missing piece of his face. It was no easy task, partly due to his panic. Once he did find the thing, he sat back and stared at it, wondering what he was supposed to do now. Hesitantly, he lifted the jaw to his face. With a surprisingly small push, it went back into place with a light _click _and a _pop._ Jack gave a cough and a groan before he let himself fall over into a pile of withered leaves.

"Seek elsewhere," he breathed as he gazed up at the dark sky. "Seek elsewhere…" Stared in the face by such a horrible failure, all Jack wished to seek out was a way back to Halloween Town. Set adrift, his mind screamed again. Lost. His eyes stung and a frustrated sob came to him. No tears. For all of his physics-baffling abilities, he had no means by which to actually cry.

A sound split the night; singing, distant and very sudden. Jack quickly rolled over onto his hands and knees, searching for the source of the sound. His head throbbed and reeled from the movement. Once it cleared again, he came to his feet and moved for a better hiding place. However, Jack stopped in his tracks and turned a proverbial ear to the sound. He realized it was familiar.

This is Halloween

This is Halloween

Halloween! Halloween!

Halloween! Halloween!

Without a second thought, Jack sprinted off through the trees. Branches snagged against his clothing, scraped across his skull. Leaves were sent up in a frenzy about his feet, surprise tree roots seeming to leap up to trip him. Jack moved as quickly as his legs would carry him, his mind and vision still lurching and fuzzy from his injuries. A faint candle light flickered from between tree trunks, gone as quickly as it had appeared. The sound of the singing remained faint as before, but the tune was unmistakable. He had to find the singer. Another flicker of light came in the darkness, a dim orange glow, always impossibly far ahead. "Wait," Jack breathed, not nearly loud enough for the singer to hear him. He dared not call out for fear of who else may answer him.

The song stopped. Jack pressed on, hoping and praying that the voice would come again, desperate for a way back home. A root hooked his boney ankle and the skeleton landed upon his face. The throbbing pain through his skull took over his world once again. He gripped at the large crack across his skull and shuddered.

Laughter.

Jack lifted his gaze and the world spun until it came to focus. A mist had settled over the clearing he now found himself in. Just ahead of him was the glowing candlelight. Jack forced himself forward, on hands and knees at first until he had built up the momentum to come to his feet again. As he drew nearer to the light and the insane laughter, the figure became clearer. Towering over the ground, tied securely to his post and cackling like a madman- it was the scarecrow bridge-keeper from The Road. Jack squinted ahead at it, disbelieving.

"Skeleton Jack, thou art more a fool that first I perceived," the scarecrow screeched out, its voice ragged. "Find any zombies as of late?" It smiled at him in that wicked, sly manner it had. Jack felt a chill run through his bones. When he did not answer, the scarecrow flung back its pumpkin head and cackled with glee. Then, abruptly, the cackling stopped. "One hour," it said sternly.

Jack blinked, "Come again?" he stammered out.

"That is how much longer I will give you, Jack. The door to that land of Halloween closes then. If you still are clinging to your delusions of helping your pitiful town, you had better do so quickly."

"But," Jack protested weakly, "I have found no way to stop this war. I hardly understand what's going on, who is fighting who, much less how to come to a compromise!"

The scarecrow was amused by the frustration in Jack's voice. "Does not understand, he says!" It once again shrieked with laughter. "Does not understand the war, does not understand how to stop it, does not understand the power he holds here!"

"Stop that!" Jack snapped, and was rather surprised when the laughter did stop. Suddenly the scarecrow's face was so close to his own that he could feel the head coming off of its candle. The scarecrow's eyes were narrow, its mouth presses shut so tightly that the pumpkin face wrinkled. Jack tried to back away from his disapproving gaze, but found that it was as if some outside force had fixed his feet to the place where he stood.

"Does not understand," the scarecrow continued lowly, "the meaning of being called _La Muerte."_

"No, I don't understand that," Jack replied, trying with all his might to stand brave before the bizarre creature, "It is Latin or Spanish, I think. At least, one of the romance languages. I have yet to attempt to look it up."

"_La Muerte,_" the scarecrow hissed out, "is a figure most feared. Ominous, dark, mysterious, feminine."

Jack's brow furrowed in disapproval of these riddles. He wanted to demand answers, he wanted to demand a way home. He didn't figure that this was the way to get results from this creature. He remained silent and listened.

"Appearing as a skeleton," the scarecrow continued, "_La Muerte_ sweeps through villages, towns, cities, wastelands and farmlands alike. _La Muerte _has no discriminations. _La Muerte_ embraces all and never lets them leave again from her kingdom. She is unstoppable. And those who call you _La Muerte_… well, they have met her and do not even know it."

Jack was still unable to move, his gaze fixed upon the creature before him as he let the words roll about his mind. Finally, he broke the silence, "_La Muerte," _he said quietly, "is Death."

The scarecrow gave a crooked smile of knowing and a slight nod of its head. "Imagine," it mused, "looking so much like Death, you can be mistaken for Death itself. Ah, to have such a power."

"I still don't know how this is supposed to help me," Jack replied.

A hollow sort of _thunk_ sound echoed through the clearing as a wooden dowel of an arm met solidly with the side of Jack's head. The skeleton reeled and slumped to the ground. The throbbing pain in his cracked skull returned to him.

"Worthless!" the scarecrow shrieked out, "Addle-minded, foul, undead creature that you are! Wait for the answer! Wait for answers to be handed to you until you rot!" The clearing fell into darkness. Jack lifted his gaze to find that the scarecrow was gone, with no sign of it having ever even been there. A cold wind whipped about, tossing leaves and dirt in a whirlwind. A voice carried on that wind, speaking in a rasping tone, "Twice you have been warned, Skeleton Jack. Seek elsewhere." The wind died. All was silent and dark in its wake.

_© Gina Trujillo, Sept. 2007._


	19. Meanwhile

_I'm having such a time setting my ideas in order for this one. o.0 I'll get it under control. On another note, I'm having fun with this story again, as I tend to do around Halloween time and the holidays. It makes for a good writer's block writing, because I can just go with it and I don't care a great deal about… well, a lot of issues I have with my original writing. I guess I'm not so worried about keeping the plot air tight and editing issues. Nice to have some breathing room. Not to put down the quality of this story or anything. ANYWAY! On with the show._

Meanwhile…

Game leaned in the doorway, the tip of her long tail tapping impatiently against the floor. She watched as Match shuffled about in the darkened chamber. He had a black sack with a skull pattern stitched across its hem. He was tucking a few things into it –a tin cup, some odd half-gnawed bones, a couple of boxes of matches- the sort of things that mattered to a pyromaniac werewolf. Game's lips twisted in disapproval. "He'sss not going to like thisss," she stated.

To this, Match paused, but said nothing. He tied up his bag and put it over his large shoulder before starting for the door. Game did not move from his path. Match locked eyes with her in silence, expression blank with a hint of being hurt about the edges. Game remained demanding as ever. "Why are you even bothering?"

"I… I donno," Match replied, eyes darting away from her. "I just… I mean… I can't do it anymore."

"He'sss not going to like thisss," Game repeated, "It ssseemsss to me you made a promissse."

Match nodded bitterly, "I know that."

"You would do well to remember it," Game retorted. There was a pause before she slid aside to let Match past. The werewolf lumbered through the halls of the old fortress with the snake at his heels. He came to a wide open main hall, with a grand staircase twisting up the sides of the walls, all the way up the three story open chamber. Set stood at the bottom of the stairs, hands twisting and wringing in each other. Match froze in his tracks, just looking at her in silence.

"Match, I…" she started to speak, not looking at him in return. She was not given time to continue. Match closer, his form looming over her. She lifted her gaze, eyes full of tear, to look up at him.

Match's dark eyes gazed through her in return. He lifted a large paw and set it on her shoulder gingerly. "Set," he said hollowly. She opened her mouth to speak, but she found herself suddenly being pushed aside by his strong arm. "You're in my way," he whispered before moving up the stairs. Set blinked after him, speechless at being so easily cast aside.

The staircase felt longer than it ever had before as the werewolf traveled up it. The higher he went, the darker things became in the upper portion of the castle. Match paused outside a huge set of iron double doors.

"What'sss wrong?" a voice behind him hissed. "Ssscared?"

He didn't bother looking back at Game. His paws pressed against the cold metal doors and they swung open with the same reluctance he felt welling up in his chest. With a deep breath, the wolf entered the pitch black chamber. He counted his paces until there were five, then he came to one knee upon the floor. He lowered his head until his nose nearly touched the floor. There he stayed until there was recognition of his presence. This came in the form of a dim red light flickering to life.

"Master," Match managed to start off. His paws were shaking. He tried to keep his voice from doing the same, making sure to speak clearly and as politely as possible. "I… I request leave. I can't stay here. I will still do as you command me, Master… but I can't stay here. Not with…" he lifted his gaze enough to glance back at the barely open door, "Not with her."

His own voice echoed back at him in the silence. There was a shuffling sound, a scraping of some unseen metal. Match dared not look up, his eyes fixed on the stone floor. His heart was racing. Finally, a bone slid across the stone floor from the darkness. Match timidly reached out to take the gift he was accustomed to receiving from his master.

"Go on," the deep voice said from the dark.

"Thank you, Master," Match breathed, once again pressing his nose to the floor. He backed from the room carefully, closing the door behind himself. He breathed a great sigh of relief. Game stood upon the landing, arms crossed and a disapproving look on her face. Match gave her a slight nod and started down the stairs, tucking his new bone into the bag with the others he had.

Set stood in front of the gigantic armored doors in the entryway, hands upon her shapely hips. A scowl was on her red lips. "Match," she said, her tone angrier than before, "We need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," Match replied, "Please, move."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Set pleaded, "Why are you leaving us?"

"Why did you leave me?" Match snapped in return, his teeth baring at the vampire. She shrank back and it almost made him feel sorry for doing such a thing to her. Almost. "Stop it," he told her, "Stop with the cringing and the fake tears and the… the lies! I know how you work. I'm not gonna let you mess with me anymore."

"I'm not messing with you," Set replied, reaching her hand out to touch his face. He pulled away. She persisted. He snapped his teeth at her in return. Set gave a cry of surprise and pulled away. "How dare you!"

"What? Bite the hand I feed?" Match mocked.

"After everything I've done for you!" Set continued to be outraged.

"You left me," Match screamed at her in return, "You left me to the zombies! If Jack hadn't…" his voice trailed off as he realized he'd let slip something he never intended to say. He huffed and moved for the door to leave.

Set paused only a moment. She then lifted a hand to her mouth and gave a loud whistle. Game suddenly sprang down from the staircase above, her body expanding and growing. Her tail slammed into the door over Match's head, holding it fast. And still she continued to grow. Set gave a cackle of delight as she pulled back into a deep windowsill where she would not be crushed as the whole of the room filled with writhing snake coils. Match gasped, but he did not scream as he was engulfed. There was no time for it. Everything went dark.

_Copyright © Gina Trujillo September 29, 2007. Nightmare before Christmas and all related characters © Tim Burton. Don't steal my story and stuff._


	20. La Muerte

_Whoever keeps anonymously commenting on my Vexx fic telling me to update this one… _

_I'm aware that I don't update often. I usually get inspired to write this fic between October and January, when the holidays hit. I'm glad you like this story. Furthermore, if you personally have the amazing ability to write whenever you want and whatever is demanded of you, good for you. That is rare. You'll go places with that if you're any good._

_Your random "UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE" post was kind of cute, (in an annoying pet newbie kind of way,) but really, posting on my other fic? That is just freakin' rude! _

_I will update when I am damned well ready to and you harassing me like that on other fics is not something I, or anyone, will approve of. I put a lot of effort into my writing, and for me to post something only to have it met with, "yeah, whatever, write what I want you to right now," is a grave insult. In fact, that's just gonna REALLY piss me off and make me not want to update AT ALL. _

_In conclusion, I DO NOT write for you. I write for ME. Keep that in mind._

_Back to the show!_

La Muerte

The night had turned oddly cold. The soldiers huddled around their campfires, all still wary and shaken from the encounter with the undead creature. Some soldiers had yet to return to camp and they started to fear the worst of their comrades. Many of them held items of religious importance to them, whispered prayers, and tried to just make it until daylight. Everyone was sure that they would be safe once day broke.

The army's commander was not so easily spooked. He scoffed at the soldiers, calling them cowards and fools. As if just to prove his point, the commander decided to retire to bed, leaving the safety in numbers. He slipped into his tent. Seating himself on his cot, the commander took up the sword he had retrieved from the walking skeleton. He turned it over this way and that in his hands, examining the markings upon the blade, the craftsmanship of the sheath. This sword had surely been forged within the fires of Hell. With this blade, he could conquer all. Nothing could stop the hell-blade, he was sure of it. A twisted smile came to his battered face. This was the key he had been waiting for.

There was a rustling from behind his tent. The commander was on his feet, listening closely. Footsteps. He knew that his men were surely all around the campfire, clumped together like frightened schoolgirls. This had to be the creature from earlier, he was sure of it. Come to retrieve its weapon, perhaps? Well, he was not about to give up this sword from Hell.

With all the grace of a cat, the commander slipped from his tent. He moved in the shadows, the sword raised and ready. In a flash he rounded the back of the tent, shouting out a battle cry and swinging the blade. There was pained scream that died away in the night. Blood streaked the fabric of the tent as a young soldier fell dead at his feet. The commander stood aghast at the sight before him.

The sound of others running to investigate came. The commander was quick to tuck the bloodied sword under the back of the tent and meet the soldiers before they could see the corpse.

"We heard a scream, sir," one soldier barked out.

Obviously, thought the commander. One would have to be very hard of hearing to not have. "The monster returns!" the commander replied, pointing off into the tree, "I saw him go that way! After him!"

The soldiers hesitated for only a moment and then ran head-long into the darkness of the forest. The commander watched them, wiping sweat from his brow. He took a few careful steps back and slipped into his tent, breathing a deep sigh. This was a mess he didn't need right now. Of course, he was sure that the others would all believe that the undead creature had killed the man behind his tent. He would be fine, he told himself. No one would suspect.

The commander lifted his gaze and felt his breath seize up in his lungs. There was a figure kneeling on the floor beside the sword. It lifted its gaze sharply, but stayed crouched where it was. Empty sockets gazed at the man in the doorway, blank and emotionless. The creature had, indeed, returned, and it was after its sword.

"You'll not take that weapon from me, demon," the commander protested, his tone less forceful than he would have liked. In fact, he found his hands shaking.

"This is my sword," Jack replied calmly as he came very slowly to his feet. He took up the corner of the bed sheets and cleaned the blood from it, never letting his gaze leave the commander. He didn't want to fight, nor was he in any sort of physical condition to do so. But something had to be done. Talking was his only option. As it was, everything continued to fade in and out of focus. His broken skull throbbed with every movement he made. Jack did his best to simply stand tall and as still as possible through everything. "Why is it you want this weapon so badly?"

The commander swallowed. Shouldn't it be obvious? That was it, of course. He realized this had to be a test. Yes, a test to see if he knew as much as the creature thought he did. He replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "A sword from Hell has to be worth something. With the power that sword possesses, I will be unstoppable."

Sword from Hell, Jack pondered, looking for only a second at the blade. It was dinged and scratched from practice, with rust clinging in every crevice that was not easy to clean. Well, if this man wanted to believe it was a sword from Hell, he was inclined to go along with it. "This blade…" the skeleton paused for a moment, wondering what he could possibly say. "This blade holds power." Well, that was weak. He knew he needed to put something more into it. He picked up the sheath from where it rested on the cot and the words suddenly came to him. Standing tall, Jack let his voice rise higher than the whisper from before. "This sword has power that is far beyond anything that a mere mortal can possess. The souls of thousands have been reaped with this blade! And you!" Jack pointed the sword at the commander, who took a hasty step back. "You dare to think that you are worthy of wielding it? I should smite thee for such an insult! Prepare to be dragged into the very pits of Hell!"

The commander suddenly made a pained sound and gripped his chest. Jack blinked in surprise as the man slumped to the ground. There was no movement after that. The skeleton glanced back and forth before gingerly stepping over the crumpled form of the man and out of the tent. He froze as he pulled back the door flap, finding the soldiers of the army standing before him, white as ghosts. They held up their weapons and backed away as Jack stepped out.

Once again, Jack lifted his voice. "Why do you battle here?" No one seemed keen on offering him an answer. "What can you possibly accomplish by killing each other?" He paused to look over the silent, trembling crowd. Sheath in one hand and sword in the other, he spread his arms wide. "Know that this is what death looks like. If you fear me, you have no business condemning others to such a fate. Remain here, and you shall join me."

He slid his sword back into its scabbard and advanced slowly through the crowd. The soldiers each silently moved aside, gazing with wide eyes. Jack mentally cursed. He had retrieved his sword, but this had accomplished nothing. The army's commander may have well keeled over from heart failure, but that didn't solve anything.

The hour that the scarecrow had given him was nearly up. His head was pounding, and in spite of his confident stride and tone, he could hardly get his gaze to focus on anything. He just wanted to go home now. He could think of nothing more than that. The crackling of the camp fires faded into the distance behind him as he moved. As a thick fog rolled in from between the trees, Jack just thought it was his vision hazing over more.

Home, he repeated to himself in his mind. How was he supposed to find a way back with so little time left? His limbs felt weak and ribs started to throb. The door to Halloween Town was closing, he was sure of it, and when it did, he imagined that he would cease to exist. This had to be what he was feeling coming on. It was so similar to the feeling of dying, he thought, although he had no clear memory of his own death. He felt himself sway and reached for a tree to steady himself.

A wind blew past him, and carried upon it was a voice that whispered his name. Jack lifted his head and blinked as there was suddenly light in his eyes. The first golden rays of dawn filtered between the twisted branches. A familiar scent reached him; that of rotting leaves and fresh pumpkins. His gaze jerked upward, his mind seeming to lag behind as everything blurred and then returned to focus. He realized that he knew this place. He was standing on The Road. The outer wall of Halloween Town was a figure upon the horizon.

A wave of relief washed over him. He wanted to sprint forward, run through the gates of Halloween Town, and not stop until he was home. Within his mind and heart, he did so. However, his knees gave out from under him, and in reality, Jack sank down into a crumpled heap upon the ground.

But he was home, and for the moment, that was all that mattered.


End file.
